Someone Else
by ClaudiaRain
Summary: <html><head></head>Nell gets pulled into an undercover operation. She'll try to make the best of it. Callen/Nell</html>
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** I own nothing. I started this in 2012, decided to finish it, and somehow ended up making it 5 times as long as it was, so maybe 6 chapters?

**XXXXXX**

Things went wrong.

It was a fact of life, and usually there wasn't anyone to blame.

It was pretty standard during their operations. None of them had ever participated in one that went completely to plan. The best way to approach it was to actually _expect_ things to go wrong and make sure you had other options available. Exit strategies were helpful, too.

Their abilities to strategize and problem-solve in real time largely contributed to why they had as many successful operations as they did.

This time, Nell could trace what went wrong in a successive series of steps. Though it wasn't helpful after the fact, it made her feel better to deconstruct things and find the root of them. That way they'd be better prepared the next time. In theory.

It started with Deeks (as many unfortunate things did), followed by Eric, then Callen and Hetty, until finally Nell herself. Granger was in that mix somewhere, too, because he did shoulder part of the blame at one point. Maybe it wasn't technically fair, but she wasn't feeling too charitable, which meant it counted. At least to Nell.

It was supposed to be fairly straightforward. The first night of their new operation, Callen had a meeting with Salvatore Donatacci, the head of a local crime syndicate responsible for a number of offenses, including (they strongly suspected) the murder of two Navy sailors whom Donatacci had been using to smuggle weapons.

They'd hoped to find a lower level employee of his to turn on him, but Donatacci covered himself too well. He paid his people generously, and terrified everyone else. After months of getting nowhere, and the disappearance (and presumed murder) of the two sailors, Hetty had agreed to the last resort of an undercover operation.

**XXXXXX**

"It'll take a week, two weeks tops," Callen had proclaimed a few weeks earlier when the entire team gathered in Ops to go over details. He was overly optimistic, as usual. When Nell had cast him a skeptical look, he'd amended, "Maybe three weeks. Or more. It really depends on a number of factors. And potential problems."

"I know the problems," Nell insisted. "I wonder if there isn't a better way to –"

"Let me write this out. For the apprehensive among us." He glanced at Nell, who crossed her arms.

Sam wasn't convinced this was a productive use of their time. "G, do we really –"

"I got this," he brushed off Sam's concerns.

"I'd like to see it written out," Deeks added, rather unhelpfully, in Nell's opinion.

Kensi nudged him with her elbow and whispered at him to watch himself.

They'd already done much of the research. Callen started writing it out on a pad of paper – wait a minute.

"Where did you get that?" Nell asked. "I banned paper in here after Eric started that fire."

Eric must have been holding in his outrage at that, because he jumped in with far more enthusiasm than was warranted. "It was an arbitrary and unilateral decision that I objected to from day one!"

"You don't even like writing things down," Nell sounded distinctly exasperated. "Have you let go of that tablet at any time in the past four hours?"

"It's the principle of it," Eric complained. "You're taking away our freedom."

"That she is," Deeks agreed, for the hell of it. "Rebel, Eric. Rebel!"

Nell shifted her gaze to Deeks who pulled Kensi in front of him, presumably as a shield. When the two of them started shoving each other, Nell decided to ignore them.

She glanced at what Callen was writing. She was familiar with most of the plan, and this exercise in redundancy only served to irritate her. To her credit, she didn't react until she read number eight ('Nell, stop crowding me'). She ripped the notepad away from him.

"Nell!" Callen jumped up from his seat.

"We have technology for a _reason._" She threw the pad across the room where it hit Eric, purely by accident. He fumbled and then miraculously kept it from hitting the floor. Nell didn't know if she was more impressed with her accidental aim or with Eric keeping a hold of it. Yeah, definitely the latter.

"I could have been injured," Eric sputtered. "Watch what you're doing."

"I knew you would catch it, what with your natural athleticism."

"Oh, yeah, that's a given," Eric relented, instantly forgiving her.

Nell turned in a circle in the middle of the room, motioning to the dozen screens that surrounded them. "Embrace it, Callen. Technology is your friend."

"Know who else is my friend?" He asked. "Eric."

Eric took a step toward Callen, holding out the notepad to give back to him, and Nell stopped him with two words. "Go ahead," she kept her tone pleasant and non-threatening – in hindsight, a dead giveaway.

"This is a trick, right?" Eric looked between her and Callen with uncertainty and the slightest hint of fear.

"I will fire you," Callen threatened, and the color drained from Eric's face. He needn't have worried, though, since Callen was talking to Nell.

"You can't fire me. You wouldn't know what to do without me," she said sweetly. "Besides, who else would work with Eric every day?"

"Yeah!" Eric said, automatically backing Nell in this fight (how quickly his loyalties shifted). Then her words registered. "Hey."

"I'm kidding," she soothed.

Callen took the opportunity to contradict her. "You have to work with Eric? I have to work with Deeks."

"Funny, Callen," Deeks chuckled, though his laughter trailed off when no one else joined in.

"Except, technically, you don't work with Deeks," Kensi said. "I'm his partner, I'm with him far more than you."

"Seeing him around is enough," Callen argued.

"No, you get Sam most of the time," Nell reminded him. "You're lucky."

Sam winked at her. "You always were my favorite, Nell."

"Right back at you, Sam."

Deeks gaped at them. "I thought I was your favorite, Nell."

"You're everyone's favorite, Deeks," Nell reassured him.

"You're certainly mine now," he offered.

She grinned at him. "I've been told that I have my moments."

"That you do," Callen muttered, and it _almost _sounded like he didn't intend it as a compliment.

Deeks glanced at his partner and thought of everything she'd had to put up with from him over the years. She wasn't easy either, by any means, but he'd arguably been worse. "I have to admit that Kensi's right. I am, by far, the most difficult to work with. She should get a prize. And that prize…is me."

Nell grimaced and stepped closer to Callen to whisper to him, "You're right. You have it worse with him than I do with Eric."

Eric glared at her across the table. She'd forgotten how great his hearing was. "I'll at least give you credit for acknowledging that Deeks is higher maintenance than me. Now, since none of you are being productive in the slightest, I took the initiative to get the ball rolling." Eric pulled up a bunch of documents on the screen. Some of them detailed the background he was creating for Callen to go undercover.

"Look, Nell," Callen said, "since they're on a screen and not regular paper, you must be on board with the plan now, right?"

"I'm not _against _the plan," she insisted quietly, and the playful manner in the room disappeared at her obvious unhappiness. "Isn't there anything less risky we can try?"

Hetty entered at that moment. "It's already done," she said, directing the words at Nell. As usual, she appeared to know everything that had happened, though she hadn't been in the room. "Anyone who is not going to be helpful while we go over every step, from the beginning, may leave now."

Nell knew the words were directed mainly at her, and she supposed she deserved it, although that didn't make her feel any better. If they asked her, she'd tell them she thought she did pretty well when it came to not questioning their tactics. She truly didn't get enough credit for not losing it when the situation was warranted (and it was often warranted).

Callen nudged her arm while Hetty talked, and she knew he was trying to apologize. She wasn't in the mood, and pettily ignored him, focusing on Hetty.

She'd accepted a while ago that part of the price for remaining with their team was to get over her tendency to worry about them being in jeopardy. Danger in their line of work was normal, even expected, and their team always got assigned the _worst _of the worst. She knew it was a compliment to them; they were the best, which made them the most trusted to take down the truly evil people of the world, but in her opinion, there was a big difference between encountering danger in the course of a normal operation, and inviting it to come to you. Admittedly, this operation didn't necessarily involve more danger than most, so she had no idea why it bothered her the way it did – she had a bad feeling about it that wouldn't go away, despite trying to ignore it.

She decided she simply needed to stop voicing her feelings as much. She trusted them to take care of themselves and each other, and she'd do everything she could to contribute to that, even if she wasn't out in the field.

Eric and Hetty laid out the foundation of their plan. They'd recently put Salvatore Donatacci's most trusted money launderer out of business (aka 15-20 in federal prison), but it was on an unrelated case, and the man refused to flip on Donatacci for a lesser prison sentence, since he knew it would mean the death of his entire family.

The one benefit was that it left a dire need in Donatacci's operations for someone capable of moving money around undetected. Callen would offer Donatacci a deal he couldn't refuse: Callen would act as the middleman for his 'wife' (Kensi), a mid-level executive at a private bank with free reign to set up off-shore accounts, and who surrounded herself with similarly corrupt bank officials who didn't ask questions in exchange for a cut of the money transfers.

Deeks said he needed to stay away from the Donatacci family for 'personal reasons' and Callen swore he'd get it out of him later, but for the time being, they accepted his vague excuse and he was relegated to a behind-the-scenes role, along with Eric and Nell (as usual). Sam would go along with Callen and Kensi to meetings, waiting outside and out of sight.

Nell supposed she should take comfort in the fact that at least no one was heading alone into a terrorist cell (they'd already done their share of that this year). She considered asking for more time to surveil Donatacci before they went undercover, then decided against it. Hetty had made it clear this was happening no matter what, and a vague sense of unease was not a good reason to speak up.

More importantly, Nell didn't intend to give them more reasons for why she shouldn't work with them anymore. Not so much her team (as they'd made it clear she wasn't going anywhere if they could help it), but other people within NCIS. Like Granger, for one.

That had nothing to do with today, though. She nodded along with the plan, and when most of them had filed out, and Eric went back to his computers, Nell lingered. For some reason, she couldn't tear her gaze away from the screen where the results of Eric's hard work were visible to anyone left in Ops.

Callen spoke from a few feet behind her. "It'll be fine, we've been over this in every way."

"I wish you wouldn't act like my fears are unreasonable." She didn't turn to face him.

"I'm sorry if you think that's how I came across. It's not what I intended."

"_Every time_ one of you leaves this building, I think about the possibility that you might not come back."

He came around to stand in front of her. "I know. Do you trust us? Me?"

"It has nothing to do with trust." When the silence stretched out too long, she added, "That's the problem."

He knew, of course, what she wasn't saying. That what truly terrified her was not that they would make mistakes or somehow fail at their jobs – it was that they couldn't control how anyone else acted. The slightest suspicion on the part of anyone they were trying to take down and that could be the end of the operation, or it could be the end of one of them.

"What does worrying accomplish?" Callen asked, and it wasn't a question, it was a reminder of a conversation they'd had before, which he brought up from time to time. Especially times like these.

"I know," she sighed. And she did. Worrying accomplished absolutely nothing, except to make people miserable over something that hadn't happened yet, and may never happen.

"You do worry way more than you…" Eric trailed off, realizing he'd spoken without thinking. "I am in no way eavesdropping on your conversation."

Callen almost made a joke about it, but considering it was Eric's actual job, the punchline was way too obvious. "Go home, Eric."

"Gladly." Eric switched off a few computers, and Nell found herself wishing it was that easy to turn off her thoughts.

"Besides, how often do things usually go wrong?" Callen asked as they walked out.

Nell stopped in her tracks. "You did not just say that."

"Yup, you jinxed it, Callen." Eric gave Nell a gentle shove to get her walking again. "Good thing you have us to watch your back."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Callen said, and he meant it.

None of them knew how soon he'd need it.

**XXXXXX**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** I'm very glad other people enjoyed this! Your feedback means so much to me. Chap. 2 is probably my favorite of the story, I'm trying to make the others live up to it.

**XXXXXX**

It didn't take long for Callen to make good on his promise to get out of Deeks why he wanted to stay away from the Donatacci family. He accomplished this by winning Rock Paper Scissors – best out of three rounds.

"Don't make bets you can't handle," Callen suggested, while Deeks fumed.

Deeks had tried to take it gracefully and failed. "I know you cheated."

"You can't cheat at Rock Paper Scissors," Callen said.

Sam leaned back in his chair. "It's called psychologically studying your opponent, Deeks. There's no rule against that."

"Callen doesn't cheat," Nell confirmed. "Otherwise, he'd win against me more than just occasionally."

Callen sat up straighter in his chair. "Is that a challenge I hear?"

She assessed him critically. "Nah, I don't see much of one."

"You're on." He dramatically cleared off space on his desk.

"You do know we don't need the desk?" She asked.

"Get over here, best two out of three." He waited for her to sit on the edge of the desk and held up his hand. "Rock, paper, scissors, go." He threw paper and Nell countered with scissors. She took great delight in aggressively 'cutting' his hand in her victory.

"Ouch," Deeks said sympathetically, inwardly delighted at Nell's easy victory. It was always fun to watch their lead agent get taken down a peg; Nell doing it added a cosmic justice in his eyes. Callen was practically asking for it by challenging her.

"He almost always starts with paper." Nell slid off the desk to turn and face the rest of the group. She spoke with clinically detached gravity; she could have been explaining the motives of a killer. "Especially when he's coming off a victory over another opponent," she spared a glance at Deeks, "weak though that opponent may be."

Deeks resented her jibe, and Callen wasn't offended in the slightest at how easily she'd read him. "You're right," Callen told Nell. "I like to start with paper because it's the least threatening of the signs, it makes my opponent think I'm weaker than I am. It lulls them into a false sense of security and gives me the upper hand for the rest of the game."

"How's that working for you, G?" Sam asked. "She just cut your hand in half."

Callen smiled in appreciation. "It means I have a worthy opponent. Sorry, Deeks."

Deeks threw up his hands in dismay. "Can't you two get through a round without insulting me? _Twice_?"

Kensi was shaking her head. "That would take most of the fun out of it."

They played again – Callen threw scissors, Nell threw rock. She 'broke' the scissors and wondered if taking a bow would be too much. Probably. She did it anyway.

"The second round is trickier," Nell addressed Callen instead of the group this time. "Since you lost the first round, your automatic instinct is to go aggressive. However, rock is _too _aggressive of a move right after you've thrown paper. You know I'm more likely to copy the paper idea, since I've just seen it." She turned to Deeks. "Statistically, people are more likely to use a sign they saw in the previous round."

"Logical thinking," Sam nodded. Kensi was also rapt with attention, and Deeks wondered if they'd planned this out as some kind of skit to mess with him.

"Which means…" Nell gestured for Deeks to fill in the rest.

"Uh…it means…explain that last part again?"

"It means Callen thought I'd choose paper, which meant he couldn't choose rock, or he'd lose. He compromised with scissors, thinking it'd be an easy win."

"And you chose rock to beat scissors," Kensi nodded, clapping her hands together with emphasis. "Makes sense."

"No. No, it doesn't," Deeks was thoroughly confused. "There's _no way_ you could know what he's going to choose."

"And yet I did."

"Three out of five," Callen suggested, since he'd technically just lost two out of three.

"I object, since you've already lost," Deeks said, in case anyone cared what he thought. "But I'll allow it because I'm enjoying watching you get beaten. Keep it up, Nell."

Kensi wanted to make sure Deeks wasn't taking any pride in this. "You do realize that just because _Nell _is winning, it doesn't mean _you _lost any less pathetically, right?"

"No, Nell and I are in sync, her wins are my wins. In spirit." Deeks winked at Nell, who shot him a sympathetic smile that didn't make him feel better.

"I'll accept three out of five," Nell agreed.

"Then let's go." Deeks leaned forward, presumably to watch the action more closely and figure out Nell's way of thinking.

Callen won his first round when he chose rock and Nell chose scissors. He raised his arm, as if he were going to 'smash' the scissors as hard as he could, and Nell was set to take the pain like a champ, shutting her eyes. However, Callen stopped at the last second and tapped her hand with his own.

"Going easy on her, huh?" Deeks wasn't impressed, remembering the pain when Callen had hit him after winning the same move.

"He's smarter than you," Kensi whispered.

Callen ignored them, addressing Nell. "I suppose guessing is as good as your well-thought out strategy, huh? I took a chance on rock, and won."

She wanted to argue, but he was actually right. On a whim, she'd picked scissors, which she'd seen him play in the previous round.

"A rare misstep, Nell." Sam shook his head in dismay.

"I've got this," she assured everyone.

But she didn't. Callen won the next round when she threw rock and he chose paper.

"Damn it," she muttered, as he covered her hand. He didn't let go and pulled her closer.

"What was that about going aggressive after losing a round? You fell for your own trap by choosing rock – a trap you laid out for me two minutes ago. Do you need some pointers before we continue on?"

She wrenched her hand away from him. "You wish."

"What, no explanations for how you plan to win?" Callen taunted. "How quickly the teacher becomes the student. You've been outlining your strategy for me this whole time. I just took your open playbook and used it against you."

"This is too tense," Kensi said, biting her thumbnail. "I don't know what to do. I can't look away."

"I thought it was a simple game of chance," Deeks lamented. "My entire life view has been flipped upside down."

"You're tied, two to two," Sam reminded them. "It comes down to this round. Winner takes all."

Callen stood, jumping up and down a few times. He felt the moment called for it.

"What does the winner get?" Kensi asked, realizing they'd never set stakes.

Callen thought for a minute. "If I win, Deeks tells his story like he was supposed to, but hoped we forgot about."

"Agreed, and if I win…" Nell pretended to think. "Deeks tells his story."

"Unfair stakes!" Deeks exclaimed.

"You already lost, remember?" Kensi rolled her eyes.

"Yeah like a year ago," he muttered. "You realize we've spent an extremely long time watching two people play Rock Paper Scissors."

"Silence," Callen ordered everyone. "I need to prepare."

"Yeah you do." Nell opened and closed her hand, as if it were an exercise that would ensure her win.

He stepped closer until she had to tilt her head to look up at him. "You're going down."

"What am I thinking, Agent Callen?"

"It doesn't matter what you're thinking. I'm analyzing every round we've played today. I know what you're going to choose. The question is: can you outmaneuver my outmaneuvering of _you_?"

Nell didn't know how she kept a straight face at that. "Since we apparently both know what I'm going to play, it'd be pretty stupid of me to still choose it – wouldn't it? Or is _that _your strategy?"

"Oh man, I lost track of what was going on like twelve minutes ago." Deeks rubbed his hands over his face.

"Just do it," Kensi pleaded. "I'm not good at waiting. Or suspense. Suspenseful waiting is the worst."

Callen and Nell both threw rock. Then they both threw scissors. Then rock again. "This is going nowhere fast," Callen remarked. "This time, Nell, don't pick the same thing I pick."

"Maybe _you're _picking the one that I am," Nell countered. "Ever think of that?"

They both threw paper and it was like the space between them froze for a moment. Without saying anything, they both moved forward slightly to shake hands. And that was that.

Deeks scratched his head. "What's going on? Was that paper? Did you both choose some weird, handshake version of paper?"

"Yes, and it was the fourth time we picked the same thing. So we conceded," Nell informed everyone.

"I've never heard of a 'fourth time' rule, and you can't concede," Deeks argued. "The game doesn't work that way."

"I don't know," Sam put in. "They both did it, I think it's game over."

"No one won?" Kensi asked, sounding disappointed.

"The point you're missing, Kensi, is that no one _has _to win," Callen explained. "Deeks already lost. He still has to tell us his story."

Nell fell into the chair at Callen's desk and propped her chin on her hand. "Should we have popcorn for this?"

Deeks paced to the far side of the room before turning back with reluctance. "It's nothing sensational or anything I'm particularly proud of."

Kensi was immediately intrigued. "Did you work with them at one point? Petty crime?"

"No," he scowled and surveyed the room. They weren't going to let it go, and besides, he did have an obligation to tell them if anything from his past might interfere with their operation. He heaved a sigh before admitting, "I dated Salvatore's daughter Sylvia."

"That's it?" Sam sounded let down. "That's hardly newsworthy."

"I was a kid, it was like fifteen years ago, before I joined the LAPD. Before I had any interest in law enforcement, actually. I didn't know who Salvatore Donatacci was, but his daughter was beautiful and smart and…she might have fallen in love with me. I didn't exactly feel the same about her. I mean she was wonderful, but we had our differences that she overlooked more easily than I did. Mostly, I wasn't ready for the commitment."

Kensi knew her partner better than any of them and easily predicted where this was going. "What did you do?"

"I broke up with her. She didn't take it well, and neither did her father. Or her brothers, uncles, cousins, that great step-aunt –"

"Wait a minute," Nell knew it didn't add up. "Relationships come and go, especially with young people. It's hardly anything to get that worked up about. How long were you together?"

"Two years, give or take." Deeks hoped they'd accept that and drop it. He should have known better.

"I'm not buying it," Callen said. "No way an entire family hates you so much that you don't want to see them over a decade later."

"What. Did. You. Do?" Kensi repeated.

Deeks sat at his own desk, overcome by an air of defeat. "I might have broken up with her…via letter."

"You ended a two year relationship by writing her a _letter_?" Kensi barely kept herself from shouting.

He cringed. "A letter where I lied and said I was going to war."

"What war was there in the late 90's?" Nell's question was mostly rhetorical.

"I didn't exactly think ahead. It seemed romantic at the time. I thought she'd hold a torch for me for a little while, and then move on."

"Real charming," Callen noted, as Sam coughed 'coward' under his breath.

"Cut me some slack, I was afraid, I was _terrified_," Deeks tried to explain. "You don't get it, I found out who her father was and her family wasn't as powerful as they are today, but we'd heard stories and I decided I didn't want to end up in a river somewhere because Sylvia grew sick of me one day, or I overheard something I shouldn't have. Admittedly, hindsight is 20/20…if I'd been more of a man about it, it might not have caused the problems it did."

Kensi wished she could say any of this surprised her, but it sounded like something that would have happened to him. Or rather, that he'd have caused to happen to himself. "Don't tell me she still thinks you're fighting some imaginary war."

"No, the ruse didn't last long. I stayed with a friend in another town for a couple weeks and Sylvia, uh…she caught me when I went home to get more clothes."

"This is getting more pathetic by the minute," Sam said, with no small amount of glee. "Please, go on."

"She'd told my mom what I'd done. My mom yelled at me. Sylvia yelled at me. I thought I was going to be buried in cement for every day of the next three months. It was a bad time, guys. I don't want to relive it and this is already triggering flashbacks. Let's say I've avoided them for a long time now, and I've stayed away from any cases involving her family."

"Ah," Sam sat back and steepled his hands together. "Young love. Casts quite the long shadow."

"At least you don't have to worry you ruined the rest of her relationships by comparing everyone to you," Nell offered. "After that, I'm sure everyone she dated seemed like a better choice."

"Yeah, she got married a few years ago. He's in prison now." Deeks shrugged, as if to say 'what can you do?'

"As sad as that story is, I'm sure she and her family have moved on," Kensi tried to cheer him up.

"Probably. I'd be a distraction, though, and I intend to keep my distance from them. It's a shame, because Sylvia and I could have had a future, if her family weren't entirely comprised of criminals. I could have gotten past my commitment issues. Maybe. A few years, or ten, and –"

"Ten? Yeah, I think maybe she's the one who dodged a bullet," Callen said.

"Her husband is a convicted felon! Are you saying that's better than me?"

He was met with silence from everyone. "Very funny."

"Aww," Kensi walked by him and ruffled his hair as he batted her hands away. "We still love you, Deeks. Why else would we have kept you around this long?"

"My striking good looks? My unparalleled brilliance? My –"

"And the moment's gone." Kensi kicked his chair and he had to grab his desk to keep from toppling over.

Deeks actually felt pretty good about sharing his story. "This was nice, to get it out in the open. Like a weight's been lifted. Want to hear about my next girlfriend after Sylvia? Lynn was fantastic, I mean she did tie me up and throw me in that lake, but –"

"We are not your therapists, Deeks," Callen cut the story short, to everyone's disappointment. "What you need is a professional. Or at least date women who don't want to kill you."

"Ha!" Kensi laughed. "Good luck with that one."

Deeks didn't think they understood him. "I know how to play the game, alright? It's not my fault that I attract…passionate women."

"You have to _want_ help before you accept it. We're here for you." Callen was only half joking.

"Like I'd ever take dating advice from _you_," Deeks scoffed. "You'd probably intentionally lead me astray."

Sam didn't see how that could make things any worse. "I don't think it's possible for anyone to sabotage you more than you do to yourself."

Deeks shot him a wry look. "Married people are _especially _not welcome to give me advice. What if I ended up…" he shuddered, "married?"

Kensi felt obligated to back up that sentiment. "That would be terrible…for any woman stuck with you."

"Marriage isn't that bad, Deeks," Sam tried to argue. "It has its benefits. Like she can't leave you that easily. She really has to fight her way out, and usually it's not worth the pain or the expense. You being, well…you, would probably benefit from it."

"Why does your explanation of marriage sound a lot like keeping someone chained in your basement?" Callen arched a brow at his partner.

"Michelle is one lucky woman," Nell said wryly, then feigned alarm as if a thought had just occurred to her. "Has anyone actually talked to her lately?"

Sam threw a pen in her general direction. Nell ducked and it hit Callen who was standing behind her. He flung it back at his partner even as he told Nell, "I can confirm, she wasn't in shackles last week."

"Last week?" Nell sounded skeptical, and everyone turned to Sam.

"Michelle is not locked in the basement," Sam promised. "Besides, none of you are in any position to judge. Get back to me after ten years of marriage, we'll see how you feel."

"I don't think I'd keep my wife locked up," Callen smirked. "Well…unless she deserved it."

"It's all fun and games, huh? Women can be crazy, too," Nell warned him. "You go to bed one night, and never wake up. And everyone's like, 'Hey, where'd Callen go?' and your wife says 'I don't know, he went to the store and never came back' and no one can ever find you. But for the next five years, your house has the most beautiful lawn and the flowers are always the first to bloom in the spring."

Dead silence met her. "God, Nell…" Callen took a few steps backwards.

Sam frowned. "G, didn't you just buy a woodchipper?"

"I don't want it _now_!" He exclaimed. "Not if I'm going to end up in it. You want it, Sam?"

"Hell no," Sam said. "That's just wrong, Nell."

"My point, exactly," she said. "Women can be sociopaths. How well do you really know anyone?"

"Anyone? No idea. _You_? Too damn well." Callen sounded a bit disturbed.

"You guys aren't making marriage sound that appealing," Deeks informed them. "Or relationships in general."

"It's a matter of perspective," Sam admitted.

Callen decided to sum it up for him. "Everyone knows if you want a quality relationship, you have to put in the time and the effort."

"You're forgetting luck," Deeks reminded him. "Some of us definitely have more luck than others."

"Ever hear the saying 'you make your own luck'?" Callen asked.

"Sure, take credit for something completely out of your control."

"I make it happen, my friend," Callen said, half jokingly. He gestured to himself for emphasis. "This is skill. And years of refining myself into the perfect specimen you see before you."

"You should consider stand-up, G," Sam suggested.

Deeks gave Callen the benefit of the doubt, though. "You know, I suppose I can see it."

Nell started laughing, and Kensi sent Deeks an odd look before announcing it was time to call it a night. "Deeks, you and Callen can continue this conversation in private."

"I'll walk you out," Sam told her, shaking his head at Deeks as they left.

Nell found herself genuinely curious as she turned to Deeks. "Callen won you over awfully quick."

Deeks thought about it. "That's because I'm a reasonable man, Nell. I'll give Callen _some _credit for where he's ended up in life. He's earned it." He waited a beat before telling Callen, "You're still one of the luckiest men I know."

"I never said I disagreed with that," Callen replied, as he gathered his things to leave.

Nell threw her arms around Deeks in an impromptu hug. "And you're one of the sweetest men I know."

He wouldn't argue that. "Tell some of your friends, huh?"

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "The ones who matter already know."

**XXXXXX**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **Thank you to all reviewers, and everyone else who has added this to their alerts, your feedback is very motivating! If this chapter had a title, it'd be along the lines of "yes, they actually do have jobs that they have to get to, at some point."

**XXXXXX**

Callen's first meeting with Salvatore Donatacci occurred four days later on a beautiful Saturday evening. He'd arranged a dinner with Salvatore and his wife Maria at their Italian restaurant, _Bella's_, to outline his proposal. If it were a few years earlier, Nell would have resented being at work on the weekend, but she was used to it by now. Besides, she wouldn't have actually _wanted _to be anywhere other than watching over her team when they needed her.

Since the meeting was preliminary, and Callen intended to work out the terms of their arrangement with Donatacci, Kensi wasn't supposed to accompany him. The risk for tonight was low. Taking advantage of that, Granger had asked Kensi to assist him with some mysterious operation no one was supposed to ask questions about (which basically meant it was a typical Granger operation). Apparently their time in Afghanistan had led to Granger feeling Kensi was his go-to agent; she didn't feel the same, but she accepted it, since it was her job. At least this time she had made him swear he wouldn't take her out of the country again.

Kensi's absence was only the first of many things to go wrong.

While Callen went over last minute details with Eric and Hetty, Deeks decided it was a perfect time to try on the designer clothing Hetty usually wouldn't let him touch.

"Be honest, how handsome does this make me look?" Deeks had asked each time he tried on yet another new suit and admired himself in the mirror. Nell hadn't thought anything of it, because it was Deeks, and he was usually doing something ridiculous (or as he called it: "part of his charm").

"Are you doing anything to help us, or are you happy to put on your one-person fashion show?" Nell asked.

He buttoned his third jacket of the night and turned in a circle. "I rock designer suits better than Callen does! You can't deny it, Nell. Don't even try."

"This is me not trying," she said, though it was more that she was trying not to laugh.

"This could have been all yours," he said, winking at her in the mirror. "We would have been magic together. Bet you're regretting your choices now, huh?"

"Aw, that's sweet. Too bad you don't love me."

Deeks placed his hand over his heart and staggered over to her. "That hurts, Nell. I love you deeply."

"I love you, too," she told him seriously. "Let me rephrase what I meant: you're not _in love _with me."

"Who needs a marriage based on _that_?" Deeks teased.

Nell knew he meant it rhetorically; she answered anyways. "Me. And you."

"You drive a hard line, Nell. I guess I have to concede." He kissed her hand and went back to the mirror.

"What are you conceding?" Callen asked, as he came down the stairs.

"Why Nell and I aren't a good match," Deeks informed him, and couldn't resist sending a sly glance Nell's way. "Love-wise, that is."

"Oh really?" Callen sounded intrigued by the topic. "You mean aside from the obvious?"

"The _obvious _being that I'm a catch?" Deeks played with a tie around his collar, and Nell wondered if he knew what he was doing.

Callen glanced between them and appeared to seriously think it over. "Actually, I could see it. Endless days where you two could have bonded over…what's your favorite topic, Deeks? How amazing Kensi is?"

"I don't…what are…that's nothing to do with this conversation," he muttered, ripping the tie off and throwing it back into the endless racks of clothing.

Callen would have gone on, but Nell shook her head in a silent signal to leave him alone, and he acquiesced. He noticed his suit jacket wasn't draped over the chair where he'd left it. "Deeks."

The tone must have conveyed the question, as Deeks hastily took off the jacket he was wearing. It was the one from Callen's chair, he was sure. Well, 95%. "I was getting it ready for you by pre-wearing it."

Callen shot him a strange look and put on the jacket. Nell pulled on the lapels to straighten it out. She also unnecessarily adjusted the tie. Maybe she was stalling for a little more time. Could anyone blame her? The feeling from a few days before hadn't gone away – it had only gotten worse with time.

Deeks gave him a thumbs up. "Everyone who lays eyes on you will know that you are a man of means. A man who gets what he wants. A man who –"

"I got it," Callen interrupted. He appreciated the pep talk, and knew Deeks would go on forever if given half the chance. Everyone seemed on edge tonight. Sam had left earlier to get to the restaurant first, and he'd been unnaturally irritable, a sign he wasn't entirely comfortable with their operation. Callen mentally brushed all his thoughts aside in order to focus, and then literally had to brush Deeks aside in order to stand in front of the mirror.

Nell stepped up beside him, taking his arm and surveying their reflection. "You look good," she told him.

"I have eyes," he informed her, achieving his intention of making her smile.

"Never one to pass up an opportunity for complimenting yourself, right?" She didn't actually mind.

"Nope. Though I have to admit," he tilted his head at their reflection, "you make me look better."

She blushed slightly, a hard-wired response she'd never been able to fully control. Deeks took the opportunity to insert himself between them and throw an arm around each of their shoulders. "That's a given, am I right? The lovely Nell elevates all of us. The only thing that could make this picture more gorgeous? Me in the middle."

Callen couldn't get mad at him, because Nell was laughing, and that far eclipsed any irritation he might have felt at the other man. He knew she had misgivings about their plan and didn't know how else to reassure her. He could tell her a thousand times that everything would be fine, but he knew she wouldn't truly relax until this particular operation was behind them. They'd had an associate of Donatacci's previous money launderer vouch for Callen (under duress), but that didn't mean anything if someone suspected Callen of not being who he claimed to be.

Deeks disappeared into the racks and came back with at least a dozen ties. "Are you sure you want to go with that tie?" He asked Callen, trying to be helpful. "What about one that brings out your eyes a bit more?" He started holding up ties next to Callen's face.

Callen pushed him away as Nell watched them worriedly. "The one he's wearing is fine. I think." She truly didn't know anymore.

"My impression tonight matters," Callen reminded them, and then took a moment to scrutinize his tie. Damn it, Deeks. He finally grabbed a different tie and threw the rest back at Deeks. "Happy now?"

"I'm trying to keep you alive," Deeks told him gravely.

Nell ignored him. "Donatacci would be a fool to turn you down." She helped Callen knot the new tie. "I mean, in truth he'd be a fool to accept since you're actually an undercover agent, but…" she trailed off. "You know what I mean." She reached up to adjust his tie again.

"I do," he said, placing his hands over hers. "Nell, I think it's as straight as it's going to get."

"Yeah," she acknowledged. "Probably. Just…come back safe, okay?"

"I always do," he promised. He let her continue adjusting his tie for another thirty seconds anyways. "Nell."

She nodded at his implied statement (he'd always been able to convey so much while saying so little). "Okay. Go." She pushed him away and went upstairs with Deeks to join Eric in Ops. Any other decision would probably have involved trailing after him in some sort of breach of protocol that would get her in serious trouble. She hated worrying, since she knew how useless it was, and she hated it even more when said worrying would be scrutinized for reasons she couldn't control.

They'd been sure they had every base covered. This was also the point where Nell shifted the blame to Callen, because she couldn't fathom how he hadn't noticed that the most important item wasn't with him: the flash drive that contained all the documents needed to help him prove that he and his wife were capable of doing what he claimed – launder money.

It was a half hour later, when Callen was already seated in the restaurant, that he noticed the flash drive was inexplicably missing. Maria Donatacci had been keeping him company until her husband could join them. When a problem in the kitchen caused her to excuse herself, he called Eric, who switched him to intercom so everyone could hear Callen explain that he'd checked every pocket and also had Sam check the car, but it was nowhere to be found.

"That's impossible," Eric said. "Where would it have gone?"

"I don't know, Eric. That's why I'm calling." Callen sounded somewhat amused, as if this were funny. "I put it in my jacket and then I went to talk with you and Hetty, and when I came back, Deeks…"

At that moment, it was as if everyone had the same realization.

Nell swiveled her head to face their liaison. "Did you give him back the right jacket?"

"I'm sure I did," he sounded affronted, then stopped to think. "I mean…I'm reasonably sure."

"_Reasonably_?" Nell was sure her gaze must have signaled imminent death, as Deeks said he'd go check and ran out of Ops faster than she'd ever seen him flee.

Hetty entered the room and Eric quickly filled her in. Deeks was back in a matter of minutes, holding the flash drive. "Sorry, Callen. My bad. I take full blame for this one."

"Deeks gave you the wrong jacket." Eric summarized for Callen what their lead agent had already suspected.

Deeks recognized that Nell was probably moments away from strangling him at this turn of events. "Don't kill me," he begged, backing away from her. He spotted their boss lurking in the corner of the room. "Hetty –"

"You best look elsewhere for saving, Mr. Deeks."

"Callen, help me!" He yelled.

"He's not going to save you," Nell warned.

"You're on your own for this one, Deeks," Callen confirmed.

He sure had that right. Deeks looked between Hetty and Nell, not knowing who he'd rather be further away from. "I'm going to…hang out in the back of the room."

"Thanks, that helps me," Callen said, unintentionally breaking the tension, and Nell tried to focus on how they could fix this.

"I spent hours making that drive," Eric told everyone, indignantly.

"It took you 38 minutes, I was with you," Nell reminded him. "And yes, that's a compliment, and it's beside the point. Can you send the documents to his phone?"

Eric shrugged. "I could, but it will take a while. And it'd seem strange for Callen to bring information that way, since it would mean handing over his phone for an indeterminate time. I don't have to remind you that anything that appears strange is basically a license for them to say 'let's shoot this guy in the back alley in case he's a fed'."

Nell was sure she stopped breathing at that line – so sure that she had no idea how she spoke her next word. "What?"

Eric hastily backtracked. "Not that they'd do that. I'm only throwing out hypotheticals, here."

"Your hypotheticals are not reassuring, Eric." Callen was starting to sound as exasperated as Nell felt.

"We'll bring it to you," Hetty told him. "However, Agent Blye is unavailable."

"Have my assistant bring it to me," Callen said. "That'd be you, Nell."

She kept her face carefully blank, though it didn't matter since he couldn't see her. "Your assistant."

"My _lovely_ assistant?" It was almost as if he thought the addition of the compliment would make her less reluctant.

"Wouldn't it be better for Deeks to go?" Eric asked. He was always looking for any excuse to keep Nell out of the field.

"I don't know that I'd call him lovely," Callen quipped. "Nell, go get dressed."

"You'll pay for this later," she swore.

"Don't I always? Why are you still in the room?"

Oh yeah, he was definitely paying for it later. She left while thinking up payback scenarios in her head.

Eric tried again to get Deeks to go in Nell's place, and Hetty interrupted. "Mr. Deeks can't go due to his personal history with the Donatacci family."

"I forgot Eric missed that hilarious story," Callen said. "Someone fill him in, I have to go."

He hung up and Deeks shrugged at Eric's obvious curiosity. "It's nothing big, I have a history with them from when I worked with the LAPD. Let's say they never want to see me again."

"Did you put some of them in jail?"

"Nothing so noble, Mr. Beale," Hetty said, and Deeks was forced to once again explain why every member of the Donatacci family hated him.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Nell rummaged through the racks of clothing with increasing dread.

Hetty had abandoned Ops to help Nell prepare and reassure her that everything would be fine.

To her credit, Hetty tried to make the entire plan sound as optimistic as she could. "It will only take a few minutes. Remember two things – you're his assistant, and you're bringing him the flash drive he left at the office." Hetty grabbed a dress from a rack and threw it at her, not even pausing as she moved on to handbags. Nell dropped the orange and yellow striped dress as if it were on fire (who did the shopping around here, Deeks?) and rummaged around for something – anything – conservative.

She didn't want to dress up too much, though she felt that Callen's assistant would at least make herself presentable if she were going to a high-end restaurant, even if it was just to give him something he'd forgotten. She found a black dress and held it up in question. Deeks had made his way downstairs and nodded in approval. Then he made a quip about making sure to check that she had the flash drive with her before she left. She debated strangling him with the dress, but the fabric was too nice to ruin it that way. She thought she felt some polyester back there…

Too bad time was of the essence, which meant she had to cut her murder fantasies short. Eric came dashing down the stairs and stopped in front of them, slightly out of breath. He hated that he even had to participate in this – as far as he was concerned, Nell did not belong in the field. However, he had a job to do, and he'd never refuse it because of his personal objections. He handed Nell a license. "I made this for you. Not that I think you'll need it, but better safe than sorry."

Nell glanced at it – 'Nell Black'. "Cute," she said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Callen's last name at the moment was 'White'.

"Kind of poetic, how you two found each other, don't you think?" Eric smirked. "Black and White, working together to right the injustices of a world that is _never _black and white, but all too often shades of gray…" he stared off into space until she cleared her throat. "I didn't create a backstory for you, that license is just a precaution. If it comes down to it, I can make one if we really need to…"

"Don't worry about it. No one will even see it," she reassured him, dropping the ID into a plain handbag Hetty had procured from God knows where, and _why was it designer?_

"This is crazy," she said, holding up the Louis Vuitton bag. "He does not pay me this well."

"It's on the lower-end," Hetty waved her off. "And he does pay you that well. At least, if he's a criminal half as good as he claims."

"Fine," Nell relented. "I'm not responsible for any scuffs, stains, or other damage."

"Oh yes, you are," Hetty said, then sighed when Nell went and changed the purse for a much cheaper one.

Nell started pinning her hair back into a simple knot, since she was pressed for time. "Are you sure I'm the best choice?" She asked (of everyone in general). "Deeks wouldn't have to go in the restaurant, maybe it's safer for Callen to come outside for a minute and Deeks can slip him the flash drive. If he dresses the part they'd probably look right past him. He could be a waiter, I mean look at him! Or what about having Callen meet Sam outside?"

Deeks smiled at her. "Thanks for the compliment, Nell, though I think it might look suspicious if Callen goes to meet some guy outside. Plus, I don't think I'd fit in with the wait staff, even if I do clean up quite nicely."

"Look at his hair," Eric interrupted. "No respectable restaurant would let a guy who looks like he lives in the back alley wait tables for their extravagantly rich customers."

This, obviously, instigated a fight between Eric and Deeks over which one of them could best impersonate a server at an upscale restaurant. Nell let them waste valuable time as she grabbed some low heels and then went to the changing room to get ready.

"Alright," she announced as she emerged, causing Deeks and Eric to freeze in the middle of their argument over which shoe brand had the most sophisticated, yet comfortable, footwear for servers.

"You look incredible," Eric breathed.

"Definitely," Deeks agreed. "I said it before and I'll say it again – Callen is one lucky man. I can see why he hired you as his assistant. Not that looks are all you have to offer," he hastily added.

"Thank you," Nell told them, somewhat uncomfortable with the praise.

"I'll be outside _Bella's _the whole time with Sam," Deeks said solemnly, which made her feel better.

"I know," she patted his arm and then turned to Hetty. "Are you sure about this?"

"I have confidence in you," Hetty reassured her.

"Confidence is not what I'm thinking about." Nell knew she was second-guessing too much; she couldn't help it. "I don't want this to cause problems. Will it?"

Everyone recognized the way Hetty stealthily avoided Nell's concern. "I think I've proven over time that my judgment in certain situations supersedes the occasionally arcane rules of NCIS."

"So that's a no, it's not the best idea," Nell nodded. "Just confirming it, for posterity."

Eric wondered if there was any last ditch way to get Nell out of going into the field. Chances were everything would be fine, though there was always the possibility that things could go sideways, especially when you were dealing with people who were involved in organized crime. Plus, Nell hadn't had any real preparation for it. "Hetty, maybe we should come up with a few more contingency plans in case something goes wrong. What if someone starts asking Nell questions she can't answer? What if –"

"Not enough time." Hetty sent him an inscrutable look. "We have a small window here. Remember, they're meeting for dinner. That means at _dinnertime_, Mr. Beale, not midnight. Unless we want to raise untoward suspicion about why Mr. Callen does not have the proof he promised to bring, we have to go now."

Eric's shoulders slumped. "I don't want to put Nell in unnecessary danger."

Nell ignored the resentment at being talked about as if she weren't in the room. "I appreciate the concern, Eric. However, do you really think I'm in danger if I go to _Bella's_? _Where Callen is_? For two minutes?" The emphasis meant, of course, that she was probably safer _anywhere_ Callen was, even if she was surrounded by criminals. Besides, she wasn't one to shy away from danger because she was afraid. It didn't matter _what _she felt – she would hide it or ignore it to the best of her ability, and do what they asked of her so that Callen could reel in their mark. Their operation was on the line and she intended to do whatever she could to make sure it didn't derail.

Eric knew Nell was right, and he trusted her. He had to accept that it wasn't up to him, and he also had to admit that it had been apparent to him for some time that she was almost as excellent in the field as Kensi, if given the chance. Whether Nell knew (or believed) that was up for debate.

"You have to go." Hetty acted as the word of final authority. She shot Nell an arch look. "Remember you're his employee. Pretend you like him, and you'll be golden."

"I don't know, that might be hard," Nell remarked, somewhat dryly.

Deeks guided her toward the exit. "Do what I do: when in doubt, don't second guess yourself, or change your course of action – forge straight ahead with passion and commitment. Those two things will get you through."

"Mr. Deeks," Hetty yelled after them, "stop giving 'advice'."

Their ride to _Bella's _consisted mostly of Deeks apologizing repeatedly to her about placing her and Callen in this situation, and it took some time to convince him to forget about it. Rehashing it didn't help anything, and if she had to be honest, they'd all made mistakes, even her. Why hadn't she asked Callen if he had the flash drive? Why hadn't Eric, or Hetty? At this point, it didn't matter what they'd done (or failed to do), what mattered was fixing it. Besides, she knew it'd be a topic of their debriefing after this was over. Granger would have a field day with it, for sure. She was already preparing her "It's not what goes wrong, it's how we fix it" speech in her head.

Deeks sensed her sinking mood and tried to cheer her up by going on about his 'good old days' back on the force and how he loved 'taking down mobsters'. Nell admirably kept her skepticism in check, though if she believed half the stories he told, he could have run the Organized Crime division of the FBI by himself.

When they pulled up to the restaurant, she grasped his hand in a gesture of silent thanks. "I'll be okay," she said, though she didn't know if it was to reassure herself, or him.

"It's practically over already," he remarked. He was going around the corner to team up with Sam and stay out of sight.

Nell took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Any last suggestions?"

"Be yourself. You're reasonably likeable when you want to be." That earned him a smile. "Don't overthink it."

She nodded at him before exiting the car, and she knew she _should_ have every reason to believe things would go fine. When was Hetty ever wrong in the calls she made? The woman seemed to have an almost omniscient view of the world. If Hetty said it would be fine, then it would be fine.

However, as she walked toward the restaurant, she had a stray thought about her track record. For someone who rarely went into the field on missions, she'd been in danger for a significant portion of that time. How many times had she _almost been murdered_? She had a strange habit of finding herself left alone with psychopaths. She could only hope this time would be different.

She repeated it to herself, almost like a mantra: nothing would go wrong…or rather, nothing more would go wrong than had _already _gone wrong.

Yeah, she knew it was a futile thought before she stepped through the front doors.

**XXXXXX**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thanks for the feedback! Couple more chapters left.**

**XXXXXX**

Nell took stock the moment she walked into the restaurant: it was bigger inside than it appeared from the street, yet each table had an intimate feel to it. It spoke of class and money, which made sense, as _Bella's_ catered to the upscale. Nell fit in well; her borrowed look, courtesy of NCIS, fit the bill. "I need to see someone," she told the young hostess. "I believe he's here already, under the name White?"

"Right this way," the girl said, leading her to a large, half-circle booth in the back that was set apart from other booths and tables. Nell suspected it was Salvatore Donatacci's favorite place to conduct business. Callen was alone in the booth, and Nell reminded herself for the dozenth time to keep their exchange short. She should embody the very definition of an over-worked assistant called upon in the late evening to do a task for her forgetful boss.

Of course, it took all of three seconds for that to change.

Callen stood when he saw her, kissing her cheek, and keeping his voice low. "Hey, while you were on your way here, there was a change of plans. I thought it better to just tell you in person – you're my wife for the evening."

"What are you talking about?" She lowered her voice as well, though the risk of being overheard was slim since there weren't any diners nearby.

He sat down and pulled her next to him. "Maria just left the table. She stressed, pretty strongly, that we'd be set if I could get my wife here tonight to perform a demonstration. Something about moving a small amount of money. I can't do that – you can. And I can't teleport Kensi here, therefore, you have a new role."

She automatically shook her head. "It's not a good idea."

"If it makes you feel any better, it's already done."

"How would that make me feel better?"

"Look, I told Maria you were coming." He knew Nell wasn't thrilled, and there was little he could do about it. He opted for trying to reassure her. "Eric's changing everything as we speak so your picture will show up when they go looking into your background. Don't be worried about this, you have plenty of practice."

Nell didn't know who to blame more – Hetty, Deeks, Callen, _herself_. Blame did nothing, yet it made her feel oddly better. "This is the kind of thing that gets you shot," she informed him.

"I highly doubt they're going to shoot us in their own restaurant."

"No, _you_. This is the kind of thing that gets _me_ to shoot _you_." He didn't seem to understand the gravity of the situation. They were already walking a fine line as it was. "This isn't even allowed."

"Executive decision," Callen said. "The circumstances warrant it."

"I don't know if I believe you."

He ignored her misgivings. "So you're onboard! Great to hear it."

"I never said –"

"You didn't have to," Callen cut her off. "I can sense your enthusiasm."

Before she could respond to that, Maria Donatacci came over to their booth and they both stood to greet her. The woman seemed eager to make them happy, probably because Callen had promised to make her husband an even richer man than he already was. "Mr. White! This must be your lovely wife?"

Nell answered without thinking, still set in her original plan. "No. I mean…yes."

Maria started to laugh. "Do you not know?"

Nell had nothing. "Sometimes I lie…to try and get out of it."

Callen put his arm around her waist. "Isn't she delightful?"

"Funny," Nell suggested. "The word you're looking for is funny."

"No," he said, "that's not the word." He smiled at Maria. "This is Nell."

"I thought your wife's name was Elizabeth?" Maria asked the question of Callen, as if maybe Nell were an impostor pretending to be his wife and he somehow hadn't noticed.

"It is," he said calmly, glad he hadn't given them too much information prior to tonight's meeting; it meant Eric (hopefully) had time to fix things. "I call her Nell. It's what most people call her."

"It's my middle name," Nell added, as if they had to explain this often. She held out her hand and prayed Maria would take it without further questions.

Nell needn't have worried, because Maria's slightly puzzled expression disappeared and she brushed Nell's hand aside in order to pull her in for a hug instead. "It's wonderful to meet you, my dear! I'm Maria, Salvatore's wife. We own this restaurant and we're very happy you were able to come spend the evening with us."

Nell politely hugged her back, and as she drew away, she tried to smooth things over. "I'm sorry for the confusion."

"Don't worry about it. Simple misunderstanding. Sit, both of you." She waited until they were back in the booth before harassing Callen. "Why didn't you tell me how beautiful she is? You've certainly chosen well."

"That's quite the understatement," Callen told the older woman. He kept an eye on Nell, but she appeared fine with the sudden change of plans. He didn't know if he bought it. "I've never seen her looking as lovely as she does tonight."

Nell recognized the line, and she had a very real fear he might continue on. "Stop it," she whispered.

Callen shrugged, as if he had no idea what he was supposed to stop doing. She felt tempted to do something childish like kick him in the shin, but figured any act of violence probably wouldn't go over well – not while they were trying to make a good first impression. Or…would it make their relationship seem more authentic?

She opted for another route altogether. "I've heard wonderful things about your restaurant," Nell told Maria.

"You flatter us," Maria said graciously. "I hope you know, if I were only thirty years younger, you might have to fight me for this wonderful husband you have. Poor Sal would be left in the dust."

"You don't need to be any younger, you're gorgeous as you are," Callen said, turning on the charm (he was especially skilled at it when he needed to get out of something).

Maria patted his shoulder. "I do like you, and I'll make sure my husband knows it. It's heart-warming to see another happily married couple in this day and age. I was beginning to think Sal and I were the only ones left! I have to apologize for the way the night is going. We'll be joining you soon. It's been a hard night for the kitchen staff, two people abruptly quit, so I'm helping to make sure things don't fall apart in there. Sal is conducting some last minute business upstairs. He'll be down any moment. Anything you two want, it's on the house."

"We understand," Nell told her. "It takes a lot of work to run a business. You put in the hours when necessary."

Maria nodded. "Tell me about it, this restaurant is our labor of love. After our children, of course."

Nell instantly liked Maria, even though she knew the Donataccis were involved in a number of illegal activities. Even criminals could be pleasant, right? It probably helped, actually.

"We appreciate your generosity," Callen told her, as Maria left to check on the kitchen.

Nell inwardly sighed with relief. That had been a whirlwind five minutes. She started rummaging around in her purse, and in about ten seconds, she had pulled out a ring and slipped it onto her left ring finger. "Don't say it," she told him, hoping to cut off any lectures. "I'm always prepared."

Callen slid around the booth to sit next to her, further ensuring they wouldn't be overheard. He set his arm on top of the booth behind her, and to everyone else in the restaurant, they looked like any other couple enjoying a romantic evening. "How could you have possibly prepared for us switching the plan and asking you to play my wife?"

"Alright, I wasn't prepared for _that _scenario, but I was thinking it'd be more believable if my character had a backstory. She's married."

"This isn't community theater. You don't need a backstory for walking in and out of a restaurant."

"I'm going to ignore that jab at my acting skills," she informed him. "And I already thought of it, though I guess I have to ditch it now."

He found himself wanting to know more. "I must be a terrible employer, since I had no idea my assistant was happily married."

"Who said happily?" She shot back.

"_Nell_."

"If you must know, your assistant, Nell Black, has been happily married for almost two years."

"Nell Black? Typical Eric," he sighed. "Expand your imagination, would you?"

Eric's voice over the comms sounded quite shrill in their ears. "_You _try doing what I do every day!"

"He's sorry, Eric," Nell said, indicating that Callen should shut up.

"Fine," Callen agreed. "Tell me about your husband."

"Tom's an electrician."

"Random enough," he nodded. "Let me guess, he's incredibly good-looking?"

"I'm attracted to a person's soul, not the way they look on the outside."

"Is he intelligent?"

"He married me, didn't he?"

Callen let that slide. "Charming?"

"I bring out the best in him."

"Are you capable of answering a question without complimenting yourself?"

"Is that what I was doing?" She asked, innocently.

He couldn't help rolling his eyes. "I'm glad you two are happy together."

"He's a good guy. He's always home in a timely manner after work to help me take care of the kids."

"I'm sure it's easy to take care of children who _don't exist_."

Nell took offense at his tone. "Hey, Tom treats me right."

"I treat you right," Callen argued.

"Please, you're always out engaging in criminal activities with…_criminals_." The look she shot him dared him to refute it. He really couldn't, seeing as they were about to arrange an agreement with a mob boss and his wife to commit numerous crimes in this fabricated life they'd assumed for the night. That didn't mean she wasn't as culpable as him, a fact which he had to point out in the interest of fairness.

"Where are you right now?" He challenged. "You're supporting your criminal husband in said activities to keep the money rolling in. Remember, you're as guilty as me, if not more so."

He was right. If she was going to berate the character he was playing, she had to admit hers wasn't morally superior, either. "Maybe I'm thinking of reforming my ways," she suggested.

"Uh huh, well do it after we've gotten what we came for."

"I can think of a few things I'm going to do after we've gotten what we came for," she told him.

"What?"

"Nothing." She picked up the menu and pretended to be enthralled.

"Marriage is far more work than it's worth," he said. "Should've listened to Sam."

"_What?" _Nell asked.

Sam and Deeks had been mostly silent the whole night, but now Sam felt compelled to lend his advice, even as Deeks shook his head no. "Don't drag me into this, G," Sam told him over the comms. "Every choice you've made is on you. I say this as a friend – backtrack right now, because this path you're going down is not going to end well for you."

"I'm not afraid of her," Callen shot back.

"You probably should be," Deeks tried to warn him. He'd be scared of Nell if she were halfway around the world – to sit right in front of her and take such risks? It was terrifying. (He found himself in awe of Callen sometimes, as much as he wondered if the man weren't destined for an early grave.)

Nell was not amused by their conversation about her. "I can hear you guys. You realize that."

Callen was saved by a young waiter who came over with wine. "Compliments of Mrs. Donatacci." He poured them both glasses, and then took Callen's order for two meals. Nell would have given him hell about it, except he ordered a meal she liked, effectively preempting her tirade – she knew it was on purpose.

She went back to twisting her ring. Seasoned agents should be able to deal with any unexpected incident that came up – she was a seasoned agent, right? Of course she was…so why did she sometimes feel like a rookie with no idea what she was doing? She wasn't prepared for this.

Apparently she was quiet for too long, because Callen interpreted her silence as being upset with him. "You're supposed to at least pretend you like me," he cajoled.

"I do like you." She leaned her head back against his arm and turned to face him. "We'd have a serious problem if I didn't."

"More romantic words have never been spoken between spouses, I'm sure."

"I'm worried, Callen," she made sure to keep her voice down, though the only person who'd been remotely near their table in the past ten minutes was the waiter. "These people are dangerous, and changing things like we did at the last minute? Equally dangerous." She'd tried to ignore it the entire night, and couldn't anymore. Everyone knew that introducing an unexpected variable (like swapping a role in an operation with another person) could lead to mistakes. And mistakes led to being found out.

"Is that it?" He asked, because of course he knew there was more going on.

Truthfully, her apprehension was about far more than worrying about the last minute switch – it came down to her insecurities about participating in field operations. It didn't help that she wasn't supposed to be there. "I'm not sure I'm doing this right."

"You're doing fine."

"What do you expect from me?" She would have appreciated a step-by-step set of instructions for the night, if he'd had one.

Callen must have read the increasing anxiety in her. "Breathe in and out slowly. Stop worrying. Most importantly, sit here and look pretty."

That snapped her out of her self-doubt. "Is that the only thing you think I'm capable of? Sitting here and being the dutiful woman, agreeing with your every word and doing whatever you ask of me?" She didn't realize until she was at the end of her semi-rant that he was smiling.

"I knew you were still in there," he sounded far too pleased with himself.

Alright, _maybe _his goading had made her feel more like herself. He knew her too well, and she wasn't surprised by that anymore.

He took her hand and she gripped it back too tightly. "You've done this before," he reminded her. "Don't think of tonight as pretend, or as taking Kensi's place. The only thing to remember is to maintain a certain level of confidence. Just be yourself."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was right. This shouldn't be difficult; if you got right down to it, it wasn't even a 'role' per se. "Be the real me, that shouldn't be hard. The real me…who's your wife."

Callen nodded with approval. "See? I believe you already."

"I should hope so." She knew he was watching her closely. She was used to it, and it always made her feel better, even as she felt guilty about warranting that level of concern from him. "I'll be fine."

"I know you will. By the way, didn't you originally come here for a reason?"

She'd completely forgotten. She found the flash drive in her purse and gave it to him as they spotted Maria returning.

"Sal's on his way down. How's the wine?" Maria asked cheerfully.

Nell reached for her glass and took a few deep sips to calm her nerves. "Fantastic," she said, though it was more to her glass than to Maria.

"Wonderful, thank you," Callen echoed.

Moments later, Salvatore came over to join his wife on the opposite side of the booth from Callen and Nell. He apologized profusely for his delay in joining their meeting.

They exchanged small talk for a short while until their meals were delivered, and then Salvatore got down to business.

"I hear you have a proposition for me?" He asked Callen.

Callen carefully laid out their terms, and he didn't waver in the slightest. Nell had admired how persuasive he was dozens of times in everyday situations, yet those instances couldn't compare to the way he performed undercover. She was used to hearing him over the comms, or learning after the fact how he'd gotten out of a terrible situation by creating some elaborate story. Witnessing firsthand his ability to persuade others to do exactly what he wanted – while pretending to be someone else, and with the knowledge that a slight misstep might cost him his life – gave her a newfound appreciation. He amazed her, and she promised herself that she'd tell him that later.

Callen handed over the flash drive, and Salvatore gave it to another man to 'verify' and get back to him.

"Your terms sound reasonable," Salvatore told him. He'd ordered steak florentine, and cut through it with measured precision. Nell suspected it was an intimidation tactic.

"Reasonable enough to accept?" Callen couldn't have appeared more unaffected. He casually brushed a hand along Nell's neck in a silent signal that everything was going fine.

"It almost makes me wonder if it's too good to be true," Salvatore said, and though it sounded like a question, it wasn't.

This was probably the point where Nell would have started to worry, but Callen wasn't fazed, and he laid a hand on her knee under the table in an effort to keep her from reacting. "To be honest, usually I hear that I've demanded too high of a percentage for the terms to be agreeable. I can always take more of the profits, if it puts you at ease."

Salvatore waited a few moments before laughing and waving his steak knife at the two of them. "You have quite the sense of humor! However, I believe my wife informed you we'd need a demonstration?" He called one of his employees over to give Nell a laptop.

She glanced at Callen and he nodded at her to indicate she should do what they asked. It turned out to be simple enough: Salvatore wanted her to transfer $10,000 to a new secure account through her bank. Since her bank didn't actually exist, Eric helped, instructing her on what to do. Once the money was transferred, she returned the laptop to Salvatore.

He saw the results on the screen and called his accountant to confirm the transfer had taken place. He wouldn't be easily fooled. "This is beautiful," he told them, after the transfer had been confirmed. "Allow me to discuss the terms with my associates and I'll give you my answer soon. Now, let's stop discussing business for the time being." He smiled at his wife, and Nell relaxed.

The rest of their dinner, while slightly nerve-wracking at times, went fine. Nell called upon every trick in her arsenal to appear confident, yet not arrogant or rude. She knew she was succeeding when Salvatore asked Callen how he'd managed to find a wife like her. Callen answered that she took a lot of patience, and Nell made another vague mental note to get back at him later.

Nell couldn't say she was entirely objective at judging her own skills, though as the evening wore on, she actually began to believe they'd pulled it off.

They left _Bella's_ around midnight, thrilled to be celebrating a successful evening. Hopefully Salvatore would contact them soon and they'd be able to strike a deal (she knew he wanted to thoroughly investigate them first – she had no worries, Eric was more than capable at his job).

As they walked to the car, Nell spared a moment to think of Sam and Deeks, forced to wait nearby for hours. Her sympathy didn't last long, though, when Deeks told them over the comms that he'd been waiting for this moment all his life and then cut transmission. She gave him high marks for catching onto their game – she hadn't realized anyone else was even aware of it.

With each step away from _Bella's_, Nell felt as if the tension were evaporating from her body. She didn't know if she could describe in words how relieved she was that dinner was over. She wanted to go home and sleep for twelve hours.

"That went fantastically, don't you think?" Callen asked.

"Far better than it might have," she admitted, stopping next to the car. "I'm a little surprised."

"I'm not," he insisted, leaning down to briefly kiss her mouth. "They're watching us," he whispered, by way of explanation.

"Really?" She glanced over at the restaurant, as if she might see a crowd watching them. There was no one in sight.

"Well…they could be," he allowed.

She couldn't help her smile, which meant her words weren't as stern as she intended. "I'm sure they have nothing better to do than watch us from the windows of their restaurant in the middle of the night."

"I'm always looking out for us," Callen said. "We should work together more often."

"Tell that to Hetty. And Granger. And NCIS. Let me know how it works out for you."

"If things keep going well, we could probably change their minds." He opened the passenger side door of the car for her. "I think they worry about us having too much fun."

"Oh yeah," she said sarcastically. "That's their main concern."

"Alright, maybe not, but it's still true."

She couldn't argue with that.

**XXXXXX**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: **One more chapter after this one (I think). **THANK YOU** to all reviewers. Hearing what you have to say about each chapter means the world to me. Everyone else reading this, you have also made me very happy.

**XXXXXX**

Nell spent the rest of her weekend thinking up worst case scenarios for the coming week. Callen had her mostly convinced that everything would be fine – he'd talked to Hetty at length, and she was on their side (as usual). However, that meant nothing when it came to Assistant Director Granger or NCIS. Nell was of the opinion that Hetty could deal with them for now. She'd simply avoid Granger, though he had an uncanny habit of lurking around –

"Good morning," Granger said, stepping into her path from a partially obscured alcove near the stairs. He noticed her surprise. "I always stand there. In the mornings."

"When you're waiting to ambush people, sir?"

"Ambush? Interesting choice of words. Do you not want to talk to me?"

Was that a trick question? "No, that's…what I meant to say was good morning." She tried to keep walking and he took another step to block her.

"How was your weekend?"

They both knew where the conversation was headed. Best to stay vague while she thought of a way out of it. "You know, the usual."

"The usual. Sounds fascinating." He didn't _sound _fascinated. He sounded skeptical and a bit disdainful.

"I have things to –"

"I heard you had an interesting Saturday night."

Her heart started to race and she looked around for any kind of rescue she could find. Aha, Deeks and Kensi were bickering nearby.

"Hey guys!" She tried waving them over, but once they saw she was with Granger they both fled in the opposite direction. So much for a rescue.

"Saturday night," Granger reiterated.

"Could you be more specific?"

"Why did Agent Callen pull you into a field operation without prior approval when he is _well aware _of the ground rules we established?"

"Oh. That." Nell cleared her throat. She should have feigned illness today, she _knew _it.

"Am I to take your silence as an indication that he had no reason except his usual disregard for the rules?"

She clenched her hands so tightly that she felt her nails dig into her palms. It would be easy to pin the blame entirely on Callen and beg Granger's forgiveness. However, she couldn't do that (even if he deserved it) which meant it was time to spin like there was no tomorrow.

"Sir, I'm sure you're aware that Agent Callen was going on a potentially dangerous meeting and certain unforeseen circumstances necessitated that I bring him some important information. On the way there, further events – completely out of our control – meant that if I took Agent Blye's place, we would have a much greater chance of completing the operation successfully. We all want to bring Salvatore Donatacci down, right?"

Granger blinked. "Obviously. No one is arguing that. The issue is –"

"Sir," she risked interrupting him to avoid another lecture, "I must add, with no disrespect intended, that Kensi should have been with Callen or at least at headquarters in case anything went wrong. It was her absence that largely led to the events of Saturday night. I don't regret stepping in when I was asked, and I am determined to perform the role as well as Kensi would have." She thought about it, and then threw on another "sir" for maximum impact.

"Owen!" Hetty was an unexpected savior as she walked briskly toward them. "Just the man I was looking for, I think we need to talk." She nodded at Nell to get the hell out of there, and Nell wasted no time obeying.

She headed up the stairs and found Sam and Callen on the landing. Sam grinned at her, somewhat maniacally. "Granger was responsible for Kensi's absence, which means you just pinned the entire events of Saturday on him."

"Don't worry, he'll rationalize his way out of it soon enough." She folded her arms and stared them down even though they were both taller than her. "You two stood here listening and didn't come help me?"

"You didn't need help," Callen insisted.

"How lucky are you to have me?" She demanded.

Callen shrugged. "It's not like he was being that hard on you. I probably could have come up with the same argument, given enough time."

She knew he was trying to lighten the mood, and it was the exact opposite of what she wanted to hear. "I joke around as much as you, but I am honestly thinking about pushing you down these stairs."

"Tread lightly, G." Sam didn't know if Callen was immune to Nell by now, or if he always knew when she was pissed off and secretly enjoyed it.

"Please, 'tread lightly' is my middle name."

Nell was losing her patience. He reached over to take her hand and she wrenched herself away in a quick move that had him stumbling back a few steps. "Your lack of gratitude is astounding. Tread lightly _away from me_," she snapped.

"Did you just push me?" He was incredulous. "Workplace harassment. Sam's a witness."

"I saw nothing." Sam headed down the stairs, a firm believer in letting Callen fix his own problems.

Nell knew it was time to leave the conversation before she did something she'd regret. "I'm going to work, you know, that thing some of us do in this building from time to time?"

It wasn't her words that clued him in; it was her tone. She'd made it up three steps when Callen grabbed her arm and turned her around to face him. They were at an even height this way, which was strange, though not unwelcome.

"Look at me," he ordered, waiting for her to meet his eyes. "I. Do. Appreciate. You."

She bit her lip because she wasn't an emotional person, and she refused to do something silly in front of everyone like cry.

Thankfully, he didn't wait for an answer. "I also know that _you _know I couldn't do this without you."

She tried to compose herself. "It's not your fault I'm on edge. It's…everything."

"The next thing on my list is to find Granger and explain. I got this."

That was cause for alarm. "Please don't do anything to justify him sending you, or me, to Siberia."

"Do we have an office there?"

"Also, make sure you respond to everything he says with a sarcastic comment or joke, he loves that."

"Stellar advice, as always." He kissed her cheek in appreciation as Deeks and Kensi started down the stairs toward them.

"Is this an episode of _Love Connection_?" Deeks asked as he stopped next to them. "Keep it out of work, you two."

"Are we back in 1985?" Callen asked, as Kensi pinched Deeks on the arm and he winced.

"What's love without pain, am I right?" Deeks held up a hand for Callen to high five. When he wouldn't, Deeks awkwardly lowered it. "Besides, everyone knows the classic game shows. Don't tell me your memory's failing you already?"

Kensi herded Deeks down the stairs before the situation could escalate, and the two of them almost collided with Hetty and Granger.

Hetty told Nell they needed to talk and pointed at her desk.

"Conference room, Agent Callen," Granger ordered.

"If I don't come back, remember me," Callen told everyone as he left.

"Always in our hearts," Deeks promised, placing his hand over his chest. "Wait, we have a conference room?"

"How long have you worked here?" Kensi asked.

"I only use about three rooms in this building." He thought about it. "Do you know how many private conversations I've had in the hallways with random people walking by? A conference room would come in handy."

While Sam and Kensi lectured Deeks on knowing his environment better, Nell took a seat at Hetty's desk. She correctly guessed that Hetty wanted to talk about Granger, and listened to Hetty's version of their conversation. To sum it up, and state the obvious, he wasn't happy. Nell didn't know how to fix that, and Hetty had fairly simple advice: do not fail.

"That's easier said than done," Nell pointed out. She actually had confidence they could do it, but she hated being threatened in the event things went wrong.

"Remember, no one can deny that your team has a proven track record of achieving results, even if it means going off-book. Those results matter; if you get things done, people tend to look the other way. If you fail spectacularly, suddenly everything you've ever done comes under scrutiny."

"I know how the game is played," Nell sighed. "Unfortunately."

"What I'm telling you now is more or less what Owen is telling Mr. Callen. Perhaps in less pleasant terms."

"That's great. Callen reacts well to threats."

"It would do him some good to remember not everyone is as easily swayed as I am."

"Ha! Since when are you easily swayed?" Callen asked as he walked over, catching the end of Hetty's words.

"Mr. Callen, I trust it went well? We haven't heard any yelling, or furniture being thrown…"

"Hetty, you underestimate me. I don't resort to dramatics."

"This from the man who once threatened to quit altogether?"

"That's different, that was for a good cause," he winked at her. "Besides, every talk with our Assistant Director's the same. I swear he has a script he reads from every time I make minor adjustments. Overall, he's fine with our new plan."

For the first time since this started, Nell felt hopeful. "Really?"

"No!" Callen exclaimed. "Have you met Owen Granger? I thought he was going to have a stroke. At one point, he threatened to drag me out back for the sole purpose of throwing me off the dock."

Nell crossed her arms, distinctly unamused. "Maybe he should have," she informed him, and then walked away.

Callen turned to Hetty. "What's that about?"

"She's your wife Mr. Callen," Hetty told him, with more than a hint of sarcasm, "go figure it out."

"She _has_ been acting a little off."

"Maybe she thinks you're not taking this seriously?" Hetty suggested.

Upon reflection, he realized that was the most likely reason. "I'll talk to her about it. I was mostly joking about how upset Granger was. Although he _did_ say he'd drown me."

"He _can _follow through on some of his threats if you won't listen to him, Mr. Callen. Believe it or not, he's trying to protect you and keep your team intact. At times you make it extremely hard for him."

He did feel slightly bad about that. "It's not on purpose. I'm trying to make the best decisions I can, and they're not always popular. If I go too far one day, then so be it. I don't think that day's here yet."

"I hope it never comes." She pointed in the direction Nell had gone, and he took the hint.

Deeks had stopped Nell at his desk, and he waved Callen over.

"Eric finished your paperwork." He gestured to the folder Nell held in her hands. "New license, passport, credit cards, library card – for those who still use it. Helpful hint: everything works, including the credit cards. Charge whatever you like."

"Definitely worth being fired," Kensi added.

"I made this up especially for you." Deeks flipped a card at Callen.

He glanced at it. "A Medicare benefits card. How thoughtful. Because I'm definitely 65."

"I know, buddy. Couple more years, I'm thinking ahead for you." Deeks jerked out of the way when Callen pretended to throw it back at him.

Kensi couldn't help herself. "Watch out when you go home. He had your house wired for Life Alert."

"Kensi, that was supposed to be a surprise newlywed gift! You ruin everything." He turned to Callen, explaining, "That company provides a valuable service."

"Yeah, for senior citizens!" Callen tried not to yell, but it was a near thing.

"And you don't qualify?" Deeks asked

"This is what you do with the spare key I gave you for emergencies?"

"That was your first mistake," Kensi informed him. "Trusting Deeks with anything of personal value."

"Some thanks I get for the $29.95 a month I'm paying for your safety," Deeks sounded appalled. "I'll expect reimbursement for that."

Nell ignored them as she flipped through the folder. It was pretty strange to see the name 'Nell White' on everything. It made her think of a life where that really _was _her. Maybe a typical, middle-class American who loved to check out books from the library, and who charged slightly too much on her credit cards. Her husband probably argued with her every week about her spending habits. Oh, and she laundered money for a living.

Callen took the folder, breaking her out of the daydream. "Can we talk?"

She followed him to a secluded part of the hallway where he told her about his exchange with Granger, and that they'd come to an agreement to allow things to continue as they currently were.

"I'm sorry if you thought I was taking this lightly," he explained. "I know he's trying to do his job, I can't fault him for it. Still, I've gone against him before and I've always won."

She couldn't help asking, "What if you don't win next time?"

"Then I don't, and I'll find a new job. I don't see it coming to that, Nell. I have a few tricks left."

"I don't know if you're making me feel better."

"You'll come around to my way of thinking, trust me."

She tilted her head from side to side, considering. "It's debatable."

"See? This is what marriage is about, give and take. Working through our issues. You realizing that I'm right every time."

"Keep it up and I might take Granger's side."

"That's practically treasonous."

She valiantly tried to contain her smile and knew she was losing. "I'm not afraid."

"You should be." They met each other's eyes, and for a moment he was all she could see.

Deeks interrupted with his uncanny sense of timing. "Hey, guys! Having a private conversation in the hallway? Should've gone to the conference room. No really, show me where it is."

"It's out back," Callen told him. "Go to the boatshed, then jump in the water and swim a half mile out. You'll find it in no time. It's on your left."

Deeks scratched his head. "That doesn't sound right."

"I'm sure Granger will be happy to show you." Callen turned Deeks back toward the front of the building. "Let's go find him."

"I'm suddenly not interested." He tried to back away, and Callen wouldn't let go of his shoulder.

Nell decided to let them fight it out on their own.

"Have fun! Remember, I love you both, so if one of you doesn't come back, the other one _will _regret it."

"That's sweet," Deeks called after her, as she mock saluted and walked away. "Hear that, Callen? You can't hurt me."

"You've got it backwards. It's far more likely that one day you'll need me to protect you from her."

"Which is funny because you're usually the one infuriating her."

"I can't help it that she refuses to acknowledge when I make compelling arguments."

Deeks rubbed the back of his neck. "Hey, I've been thinking. We both know this operation is dangerous, yet you brought Nell into an active role."

Callen heard his unspoken question. "She can do her job as well as any agent in NCIS."

"Trust me, I know." Deeks would never argue otherwise – she'd saved him a number of times. "I'm only wondering if you're really okay with her being in the field."

It was a hard question, one which Callen had thought about often. "The only thing that matters is if she can do the job, and I know she can. My personal feelings about it can't come into consideration. This isn't a unique issue, Deeks. Each one of us knows how much danger everyone else is in during a typical day. You have to deal with it as much as I do, and it's not like we're going to wake up one day and magically stop caring."

He was right. It never got easier. "I still don't know how you do it."

Callen didn't have a great answer for him. "Some days? Neither do I."

**XXXXXX**

It took another two weeks of negotiations before Salvatore Donatacci said he was ready to come to an agreement. Callen and Nell waited outside _Bella's _for him to arrive, hoping they'd be able to finalize the details of their plan once he showed up.

"Why do we have to go somewhere else? Why not talk in the restaurant?" Nell was equal parts freezing and hungry, and it irked her because the Donataccis actually had a fantastic restaurant. It was kind of sadistic that they were supposed to meet the owner outside when they weren't eating there tonight.

"I told you to eat before we left."

"And I didn't listen to you, did I? You know I can't eat when I'm nervous." She kicked at a pebble on the curb. "Sorry if I'm not looking forward to driving around the city in the middle of the night with this guy." Back-up was going to follow them in the form of Sam, Kensi, Deeks, and other personnel. For some reason, the meeting didn't sit right with her.

"Donatacci's paranoid. For good reason, I might add. Wouldn't you rather finalize a plan like this in your own limo if you had the choice? Easy getaway."

"Yeah, except we're stuck in there _with _him!"

"That's when he throws us out of the moving car," Callen sounded far too practical.

"Your ability to reassure me is severely lacking at the moment."

"No, it's my sense of humor that you aren't getting. Laugh, Nell, and it'll lighten the mood."

"Oh, I _laugh _about our potential murders. Sorry, didn't realize."

"You're forgiven," he allowed.

"Why did I agree to this? Never mind, I _didn't _agree to this." Nell pulled her coat tighter around herself to try and stifle the chill. The night had gotten far colder than expected.

"Yet you did agree to this," he reminded her. "Forever."

She shot him a scathing glance, and he smiled in return, pulling her into his side. Nell sent up a prayer of thanks for the wool coat she'd taken with her tonight, and pretended she wasn't grateful for Callen's warmth next to her. "I want a divorce."

"Sorry, I refuse."

"You _would _drag it out into a lengthy court battle to spite me."

"I sure would, but not to spite you," he paused, she assumed for dramatic effect. "It's because I can never let you go."

She was slowly becoming numb from the wind. "You realize how crazy you sound, right?"

"We're never going to survive unless…" He started humming.

She grinned. "Don't do that."

"Isn't that one of the reasons you married me? My extensive knowledge of classic soft rock has to be appealing."

"Yeah, I can see the women falling at your feet." She deliberately looked around the empty street.

"It's too cold out now. Wait until spring and you'll see. I can't believe you'd deny this inherent fact about what turns women on."

"Where did you learn your knowledge of women?" She challenged. "From Deeks?"

He couldn't believe she'd sink that low. "That's brutal, Nell. I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

Deeks saw fit to respond over the comms. "I'll have you know I get plenty of women. Plenty. In fact –"

He was cut off by the sounds of a scuffle, and then Kensi came over the line. "Don't worry guys, it's under control."

"Try to limit communication to emergency only," Callen ordered, then turned back to Nell. "Where were we?"

"Your astounding knowledge of women, music, and how you combine the two to become irresistible?"

He nodded. "You have a way with words, I couldn't have said it better myself."

"I think you're letting nostalgia cloud your memories. I don't feel quite the same, considering I wasn't around for all of the 80's. Those were your college days, right?"

He was prepared to deny it, then realized she was right. "Only half of them! The other half were in the early 90's. Thanks for making me feel ancient. I probably should have kept that Medicare card."

"I love you no matter your age," she swore, standing on her tip toes so she could kiss his cheek.

"Good thing you make me feel young again."

She shook her head in astonishment. "Now _that_ line makes you sound like you're pushing 60. And it's way too cheesy. I give it 2 out of 5 stars." She always had fun grading him. "It might work better on other women. Ones in your age bracket, perhaps?"

"Don't worry. You're all I've ever needed…baby, you're the one."

"Fond memories of my middle school years. Ah, the early 90's."

"You _would_ be the fifth grader with an easy listening station on the radio while doing your homework."

"I was an old soul back then," she said, and couldn't resist adding, "as opposed to, you know, just old."

"With age comes experience," he threatened, casually putting his arm around her neck.

She didn't fall for it, and after a brief fight, she broke free. "Youth wins out every time."

He waited until she glanced down the street to see if any cars were coming, and then lunged for her.

She shrieked and jumped backwards. "Don't do that."

"Why not? Thought you won every time."

"When you don't trick me," she clarified. "At least it's warming me up. We're living the dream, aren't we? Freezing to death on a street corner…" She deliberately exhaled to demonstrate how her breath froze in the frigid air.

"That's strange," Callen told her, "because I actually feel hot. You could say…just like an oven."

She was very, _very _tempted to shove him into the street. Thankfully, she didn't have to because the limo they'd been waiting for pulled up at that moment. Nell wasted no time diving inside, and sighed with relief at the warmth.

"It's fantastic to see you, you've saved me from relentless nostalgia." Donatacci sat across from her and Callen, with two men flanking him. She vigorously rubbed her hands together. "And frostbite. I was in danger of losing some of my extremities."

"Why didn't you wait in my restaurant?" He asked, confused.

Nell hit Callen on the shoulder. "Yeah, why didn't we wait inside?"

"Didn't occur to us?" He took her hands and rubbed them between his own in apology.

"Shame on you," Donatacci clucked his tongue. "Letting this beautiful woman suffer such discomfort."

Nell allowed herself the moment of flattery. "You certainly have a way with words."

"Be careful of this one," he warned Callen. "She might get stolen away from you by someone more deserving." He reached over and took one of her hands to kiss it.

Nell shot him a flirtatious glance. "Thankfully you came along to rescue me."

Callen didn't sound too happy when he broke into their conversation. "My wife is very dramatic, at times. Forgive her."

Donatacci waved him off. "Nothing to forgive. Such is the weak nature of women, am I right?"

Nell's good mood instantly evaporated as the two men shared a laugh at her expense. Apparently frostbite made her the weaker sex. Fine, she could live with that as long as the warmth of his limo meant she retained the use of her fingers. They started discussing the deal, and she stopped paying attention. She already knew the ins and outs; they'd gone over it a hundred times. She focused on trying to remember the turns their car made, though she eventually had to give up.

"We're all set. Right, Nell?" Callen asked as Nell abruptly tuned back in to hear that she was supposed to be prepared to do her job.

"Everything's in place," she easily lied.

"Glad to hear it." Donatacci smiled at her. "I'm slightly envious of your husband."

"I do what I'm supposed to," Nell reassured him.

"She more than earns her keep," Callen agreed. "We can get started as early as tomorrow, after we get our fee."

"About that," Donatacci began, "I'm more comfortable if you transfer my money first. Once I see this isn't a scam, we can discuss an ongoing arrangement."

Callen didn't like the sound of that. "That's not the way this works."

"Transfer my money, and if I'm satisfied, you'll get paid. That's the only way this will happen."

Callen and Nell both noted the abrupt shift in tone, and Donatacci's two associates didn't appear any friendlier than he did. Apparently, he no longer trusted them (if he ever had in the first place). Callen learned forward, spreading his arms out to appear as non-threatening as possible. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing in particular," the man said, and though his words were amicable, his tone lacked any of its previous warmth. He pulled out a gun and turned it around in his hands casually, as if it weren't a direct threat to them. "In the spirit of openness, I have to admit that I find it hard to conduct business with strangers. Let's be honest, despite the few weeks we've spent talking, you two are strangers to me. Who's to say this isn't an elaborate scheme to steal from me? Better safe than sorry. You know how it works."

Callen glanced over at Nell, and she was sure her face betrayed her fear, no matter how much she tried to hide it. He reached over to take her hand in comfort.

To make matters worse, they hadn't heard from anyone over the comms. Surely they'd heard things were going south, and were on their way? She had to consider the possibility that the limo had a signal jammer, or they were out of range. She hoped it was simply a case of the others staying too far behind and that they'd catch up. For the moment, she and Callen were alone, and he knew it, too.

"Where are we going?" Callen asked.

"Don't worry about it. As long as you do what I ask, you'll be perfectly fine."

The vehicle stopped, and Donatacci motioned for them to get out.

"We can renegotiate," Nell tried. She didn't want to speculate on what it might mean that he wanted them to exit his limo in the middle of nowhere.

The older man said nothing, and Nell figured she couldn't talk their way out of it.

Callen lowered his voice, though he knew the others could probably hear him. "Nothing is going to happen to us, I promise."

"You can't promise that," she whispered.

He reluctantly got out, reaching back for Nell who hadn't moved. "I'm promising anyways. I know you believe me."

He was right. She always did.

She took his hand and followed him out of the car.

**XXXXXX**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: **Final chapter! A million thanks to every reviewer – you guys encouraged me so much. I love all silent readers, too, and I'm happy you liked it enough to get this far. To know other people enjoyed this really meant everything as I was writing it.

**XXXXXX**

After they got out of Donatacci's limo, they were ushered into a nearby building. The ground floor was a large, empty room. It appeared to be a former office building that had been stripped of most furniture and the partitions that formed cubicles. A few desks and chairs were left haphazardly around.

"Welcome to my office," he told them, motioning for them to sit in a few nearby chairs.

Callen automatically checked for exits and saw two at either end of the room. Too far away to make it with no cover, and the closest exit was behind Donatacci and his two men. "Did you take over an insurance company? You could stand to redecorate."

"Trust me, it was this depressing when it was in use," Donatacci informed him. "It's an out of the way place to finish our business."

Callen had it mostly figured out. "Let me guess, this building can't be connected to you."

"I don't own it, if that's what you're asking." He moved toward Nell and stopped abruptly when Callen stepped into his path. "I think you have the wrong impression. We're friends here. Sit, I insist."

Callen glanced over his shoulder at Nell and then nodded that she should do as the older man asked.

She pulled out a chair from the closest desk and gingerly sat down, relieved when it didn't collapse under her. "Yeah, I'm getting a real friendly vibe. If you murder your friends."

Donatacci laughed. "I do like you. You have…what's it called? Gumption. You remind me of my wife."

"Is she like you?" Nell asked. "Trying to intimidate people into doing what you want?"

"Don't pretend to be ignorant; it doesn't become you. When you play with fire you might get burned." He studied her a bit too intensely. "I get the feeling you've been where I'm standing far more times than you'll ever admit. How many men have _you _burned?"

She had to look away, a deep feeling of unease spreading through her.

Callen didn't like the direction of the conversation and tried to get Donatacci to refocus on him. "We'll do what you want and we can go our separate ways."

Donatacci snapped his fingers and one of his men handed Nell a laptop. "My money."

She pulled up his bank's website and the website of the bank she supposedly worked at. Eric had created it, and she knew it was a very real possibility she might not be able to pull this off without him to talk her through the protocols. They'd heard nothing over the comms since before they got into the limo.

It didn't get any easier when the man behind her pressed a gun into her shoulder. "Go faster."

Before Callen could react, Donatacci held up his own gun. "Think carefully about every move you make from this point on."

Nell was used to working under pressure, though it wasn't usually this direct. She turned to the man behind her. "Can you give me some _space_?" It only made him dig the gun further into her shoulder and she debated if shoving her chair back into him would result in her immediate death. Quite possibly.

Callen couldn't remember a time when he'd had to keep his emotions in check the way he was today. He'd gone from wanting to talk his way out, to wanting to escape, to wanting to kill everyone. And making them suffer, on top of it.

He tried to analyze everything he knew about Salvatore Donatacci from the past few weeks. Though the man was ruthless, he did have a soft spot for his wife and daughters, which gave him an idea. "Please, you're terrifying my wife."

Nell jerked her head up at that, because although she was scared, she was hardly on the brink of falling apart. At least, not yet. Her puzzled glance only made him look more exasperated. If that was possible. "I'm not –"

"How is she supposed to work like this?" Callen's voice was unnaturally loud, trying to drown out whatever she'd planned to say next. "Your man over there is practically making her cry."

Oh. Ohhhh. She turned her head away from them and tried to inject as much teariness into her voice as possible. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Let me help her," Callen said, taking a few steps before Donatacci could respond. "I can calm her down. Or do you want to risk that she might not be able to do it because you get off on terrorizing defenseless women?"

Donatacci hesitated, then gestured for his man to back off from Nell and give her some space. Callen didn't risk asking, lest he be turned down, and walked over to Nell. He was relieved to make it to her side without getting shot, and knelt down next to her chair.

She took advantage of the newfound space by sending Eric a message, hoping he'd be able to decipher it and get a GPS location from the laptop she was using. If the team really had lost them, they were probably frantic by now.

"I'm defenseless, huh?" She chided.

"Luckily for us, he's never seen you in action." He took her hand, linking their fingers together, and hoped it looked like they were both distressed (it probably wasn't that much of a stretch). "I knew you'd understand. Put your master skills of emotional manipulation to use. Throw in some fake tears."

"Because I'm a woman."

"Because you're a superb agent."

She swiveled the chair and gave him an arch look. "Well-played."

He brought her hand up to kiss it. "I thought so."

Donatacci and his men were talking in hushed tones across the room. He wondered if they were discussing what to do with him and Nell…after.

"What's wrong?" She recognized the telltale signs of worry on his face.

"Nothing."

His uncertainty jarred her out of complacency. "You know, I was doing okay, but the more time that passes where we don't hear from them…I'm not so sure."

His heart sank. "Nell."

"I'm okay."

"I don't believe you."

She leaned closer to him. "Because you know me."

Yeah. He did. And he would do anything to get them out of this. "Any progress with the transfer?"

She turned back to the laptop without answering. Not a good sign. He stood up and braced a hand on the desk to look closer at the screen, wondering if he could help. No, definitely not – he had no idea what she was typing.

"I'll do what I can, though I don't know how successful it will be without Eric helping me. I sent him a message, I hope he gets it."

It was better than nothing. "Stay calm. I have a plan."

"Want to fill me in?"

He hesitated. "Well…um…"

"You don't have a plan!" She said, aghast, as she turned back to him.

"I have…the frameworks of a plan. It involves a lot of stalling."

"Honestly, I don't know how you and Sam come back from any operation alive."

"We don't get into _that_ many dangerous situations."

"Let me think about only the past _month_. You got yourselves locked in a submarine. With a bomb. And terrorists. Who were trying to kill you."

"Okay, you may have a point. That was only one day, though."

"One day," she repeated. "One of the worst days of my life."

"Hey, it was no picnic for us, either. And we got out of it, remember? A little old-fashioned ingenuity and it's possible to get out of almost anything."

"You two better be discussing how to get my money in the next ten minutes," Donatacci called.

"I'll figure it out," she told Callen, "and once they think they have their money, they'll let us go."

He couldn't pull any punches – she had to know the truth. "Nell, they're not going to let us go."

"No, he said –"

"Nell," he stopped her, torn at how much he envied her desperate optimism. "He's lying."

She wondered how far denial would get her. "What if –"

"He plans to kill us the first chance he gets. Before he suspected us, we might have had a shot, but now we don't. We have to come up with an alternative."

"I'm not good at dying, Callen," her voice was tinged with panic. "I don't have any practice!"

"Neither one of us is dying tonight." He gripped her shoulders to get her attention. "Do you doubt me?"

She took in his determination. "No, I don't."

"Good, that's what I want to hear," he said firmly. "Do whatever you can. Steal the money for all I care."

"Granger will love that," she muttered.

"One more thing for him to bitch at us about. I won't mind if we're alive."

"I'm getting impatient," Donatacci told them.

Callen went back over to try and reason with him, and give Nell more time. She did the best she could, all things considered. Unfortunately, after another five minutes, Donatacci decided he was tired of waiting.

"Get up," Donatacci ordered, and one of his men grabbed her arm to drag her over to him. "Is this a joke to you?"

"I'm working on it. I'm nearly –"

"I suppose you need more motivation." His tone was unnaturally calm. He nodded to the man next to her, and she had no time to prepare before he hit her across the face, gun still in his hand which meant it hurt ten times more than it should have. She stayed on her feet through sheer force of will. She couldn't see Callen, but she sensed him about to move and held up a hand to stop him in his tracks.

He heeded the silent message to stay put, aware she was trying to protect him. If he stepped in, he'd probably end up dead for it. He thought it might be worth it when she straightened and he saw the red mark blooming on her cheek.

Then he thought of how pissed she'd be at him if he got himself killed, and used that to keep from emotionally reacting.

"You've made a horrible mistake," he told Donatacci, both as a warning and to distract him from Nell.

"I'm trying to speed things along, and I hardly think you're in a position to do anything about it."

"It's not what _I'm_ going to do," Callen informed him, meeting Nell's gaze. "It's what _she's_ going to do."

That surprised Donatacci, who looked back at Nell. She didn't appear dangerous to anyone under normal circumstances, and looked even less so now, as she held her hand to her cheek. Callen wasn't worried; she never failed to use her nonthreatening appearance to gain the upper hand.

"I know it must be distressing to see your wife injured. If she'd done what I asked, we wouldn't be in this situation right now." Donatacci examined his gun and reconsidered his strategy. "Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way. Should I hurt _you _next?"

Nell's blood ran cold, and she tried to show no reaction. She prayed Callen wouldn't do anything rash, either. She went back to the laptop and started typing. She couldn't do what he wanted, but she could surely lie about it. "There, you have your money."

She met Callen's eyes, trying to tell him to be ready. When the man who'd hit her walked over to collect the laptop, she held it up and then, at the last second, threw it at him. She wasn't expecting to do much damage, just stun him for a moment, and it had the intended effect. She lunged at him, her main priority on securing the gun he held, and they both hit the floor hard.

She hoped Callen took advantage of the chaos to turn on Donatacci. She couldn't risk looking over to see how he was faring, though she hoped he was having an easier time than she was.

She'd hated this guy even _before_ he hit her, and it made it easy to be as vicious as possible. She got lucky when he grabbed hold of her from behind, and she elbowed him in the ribs as hard as she could. He loosened his grip on his gun and she managed to take it away, spinning around to face him. She didn't have time to order him to stay still because he instantly grabbed for her again, and she shot him in the shoulder.

She whirled around to find Callen struggling with Donatacci, and she couldn't help him because she didn't have a clear shot. She noticed that Donatacci's other man was on the floor, clutching his knee, and she surmised he'd been injured trying to help his boss. He raised his weapon and she screamed at him to stop. He ignored her, and she deliberately shot him in the knee he'd already injured. Her marksmanship lessons were paying off.

She kicked the gun away from where he'd dropped it, not that he seemed like much of a threat anymore, writhing in pain and bleeding everywhere.

Callen almost had Donatacci, but Nell was in a possible direct path if the gun went off in the struggle. He couldn't risk it, and let go of him. Donatacci grabbed him and used him as a shield from Nell.

"What'd I say? You made a mistake," Callen told him, and of course he could still come across as smug when he had a gun at his back. "She took down both your men. Now you're outnumbered."

Donatacci ignored him. "Nell, this is where I tell you that if you don't want to be a widow, drop your weapon."

"And if I do? You'll kill him and then me. At least this way I can kill you right after you kill him."

Callen had to admit she made sense. "Always thinking, honey."

"I know you'd want me to survive over yourself."

"I _am_ selfless, one of my many positive attri–"

"Shut up!" Donatacci yelled, and it was obvious he was losing control, which did not bode well.

"Shoot him," Callen urged her. "Don't worry about me."

She couldn't risk it. "Let him go. It's over."

He started backing up toward the nearest exit, pulling Callen with him. "I disagree."

"I don't," another voice called out, and everyone turned to see Sam in the doorway, his gun trained on Donatacci. "I'd say she's right. It's over. Drop the gun."

Donatacci reluctantly lowered his weapon and put his hands up. Nell couldn't remember such an overwhelming feeling of relief in her entire life. She dropped her guard and considered collapsing to the floor.

She didn't see it when the man behind her – the one she'd disarmed and shot in the shoulder – pulled out a second weapon and aimed it at her. Callen saw, and time slowed to an almost non-existent point. He didn't have time to shout her name, and he'd never reach her in time – on the off-chance he did, they'd probably both be shot. He launched himself at her anyways, and when shots rang out, he thought about what it would mean to die right then. He'd almost died a few times in his life, yet none of them compared to this moment. If he had to go, it might as well be with her, because he didn't know how he'd live without her.

They both ended up on the floor and he honestly didn't know if either of them had been shot, he just held onto her as hard as he could and tried to keep breathing.

"Got him!" Deeks yelled as he walked over, and Callen realized that the shots he'd heard had been Deeks as he fired at the man aiming for Nell. Deeks knelt down next to them. "Are you two okay?"

Callen looked Nell over for wounds and then turned her around. Nothing. She hadn't been shot. Neither had he, for that matter. He hugged her tightly and then let go of her to grab Deeks, hugging him just as fiercely. He couldn't convey his gratitude in words, which probably didn't matter when he considered that he couldn't have spoken even if he'd tried.

"What…?" Nell was thoroughly confused. "Am I missing something?"

"No," Deeks told her, standing up when Callen let him go. "Nothing at all. Sorry that we lost you for a few minutes there. Nell, you should know that Eric tracked you down with that message you sent." He looked back and forth between them, taking in the growing bruise on Nell's cheek. "I'll get the EMTs over here."

Callen managed to pull himself together. "If Deeks hadn't…"

"Hey, we're okay. That's what matters."

He couldn't look away from her face. "I'm sorry. This is my fault. I shouldn't have –"

"Don't you dare. I make my own choices and I wanted to be here." She looked around. "I mean, not on the _floor_."

He got up and pulled her after him, then brushed his thumb over her injured cheek, lightly enough that she didn't flinch. "I'd kill him for this. I wish I could fix it."

She placed her hand over his. "I don't want you to. I earned it."

She leaned against him, resting her uninjured cheek against his shoulder. He allowed himself a moment to breathe her in, and thought about the words she hadn't said. "It's not about taking anything away."

She shut her eyes. "I know."

**XXXXXX**

It was a few days later before Hetty allowed Nell to return to work. She didn't appreciate the forced time off. At least her cheek looked significantly better and she didn't feel she had to use half of her make-up to cover her face before leaving the house.

"Back already?" Sam asked. He'd come up behind her as she studied her face in a decorative mirror near his desk.

"My sentence was up."

Callen spoke from where he was sitting at his desk. "Taking a few days off after a stressful and traumatic experience is not a 'sentence'. I wish she'd made _me_ stay home." He was flipping through paperwork, remembering how terrible this part of his job was. He was tempted to throw everything away and tell Hetty he'd never received any of it (she'd know the truth).

"You should have taken off a week or two," Kensi told Nell. "Or three. You earned it."

"Like all of you take off weeks at a time?" She asked, and no one responded. "That's what I thought."

"I could be persuaded to take a few weeks off," Deeks said. "It'd do me some good."

"You not being here for two weeks? That'd be a nice vacation for us," Sam agreed, then turned to his partner. "Why didn't you make her stay home longer?"

"Have you _met _her? It was hard enough to get her to wait the three days Hetty insisted upon."

"And here I thought you had some sway."

Callen considered that. "I can sway her when she _wants _to be swayed. Does that count?"

Nell didn't think they'd ever get over their habit of talking about her as if she weren't in the room. "I'm fine, you can hardly tell anything happened. See?" The side of her face had a slight bruise, and she knew she was lucky it hadn't been much worse.

Sam tipped her head to the side. "You're right, I don't think it's too bad. You shouldn't be here, though. You're a special type of crazy. Or dedicated. I can't decide."

Callen held up one finger. "I vote the first one."

"No one asked you." She absently touched her cheek and winced. It might look better, but it was still pretty sore. Especially if she prodded it, which she'd developed a habit of doing without thinking about it.

Deeks kicked his chair out for her to sit down. "I have more good news. Since the operation is over, you're no longer Mrs. White. I hereby officially grant you a divorce." He handed her a packet of papers, and she skimmed them in disbelief to see he'd drawn up fake divorce papers.

"You have way too much time on your hands," she chastised.

"Nah, I just printed that off the internet and filled in the names. Took no more than half an hour."

"Her point stands, too much time," Callen confirmed.

"Just out of curiosity," she faux whispered to Deeks, "how much could I get?"

"Half of everything he owns," Deeks declared, giving Callen a quick once-over. "By the look of him today, you'd walk away with a solid $20 and half a dozen button down shirts."

Callen walked over (presumably to show off his shirt) and tugged at his sleeves. "These are _quality_."

Nell got up and gave the papers back to Deeks. "I'll wait, just in case he wins the lottery."

She tried to leave – she had paperwork of her own, after all – but Callen stopped her. "Don't think you can walk away the second the truth comes out."

"Don't win the lottery and you won't have anything to worry about," she said, and he didn't find it reassuring.

He turned to Sam. "Maybe I'd like to be a bachelor again. We could hit the clubs, it'd be like the good old days."

"What 'good old days'? When did we ever go to clubs?"

"When we were trying to infiltrate that Russian –"

"Undercover does not count," Sam interrupted.

"Don't let me stop you from going out and having fun," Nell told them. "Far be it from me to keep you from having a good time."

"What does that mean?" Callen was instantly suspicious of her tone.

"Kensi and I can go out, too. What do you say? Girls' night?"

"Hell yeah," Kensi agreed, high fiving her. "It's been way too long."

"Wait a minute," Deeks said. "I don't like this idea. It sounds like a terrible time. And bad for you. I vote against it."

Kensi elbowed him. "Nell wants to have fun. Clearly something she's not getting at home."

Deeks didn't know how much more of this he could take. First Callen, now Kensi? "Nell, stop corrupting members of this team!"

Callen ignored them to square off with Nell. "Fine, me and Sam'll go out. You and Kensi will go out. Deeks will sit at home alone. Everyone will be happy!"

Deeks wouldn't be happy, he knew that much. He dared to interrupt the escalating staring match between Callen and Nell by taking her arm and asking, "You want that divorce now, right? Because I can make it happen. All I have to do is put your real names in there."

She smiled at him. "You know, I often think of the other options out there for –"

Callen kissed her, preventing her from finishing the sentence. It went against every rule they had – both personal, and the ones established by NCIS. He didn't care about the rules (he never had, to be honest, he only attempted to follow them for her sake). He tried to convey how much he loved her, and how he didn't know what he'd do without her. She gasped when he gently bit her lip and opened her mouth to his, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

Nell meant to push him away, because they were at work and they had to at least _try _to follow the rules. Despite her best intentions, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, instead. She was struck by how he felt both familiar and new at the same time. She knew she should be over it by now, even as she hoped she never would be.

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind them caused her to abruptly push him away. Callen tried to catch hold of her before he regained his wits and looked up to see the Assistant Director a few feet away, watching them.

"That was completely inappropriate, Agent Callen," Nell scolded, trying to keep the laughter out of her voice. "We're at work."

"Me!" He held up his hands in dismay. "That was all _you_. Attacking me."

Everyone watched in rapt attention to see what Granger would do. He took in their little act (as if he weren't used to it by now) and wondered again when he was eligible for early retirement. "This. _This _is you two making my job a thousand times harder than it has to be."

"Ah, but we more than make up for it, don't we?" Callen asked.

"A fact which has saved you more times than I can count," Granger had to concede.

"In our defense…" Callen couldn't think of anything other than the truth, "we're married."

"Which is why we have the rules!" Granger insisted. "It's been almost two years, and we're still having this conversation."

Deeks couldn't believe that much time had passed already. "To think I bet they'd only last a year! They've defied expectations, I think that deserves some congratulations, don't you, Assistant Director?" He was trying to lessen the tension. It didn't work.

Granger heaved a long suffering sigh. The Callens were the worst headache he had – ironic since they were also two of the best agents in the building. "You two are lucky you're as good at your jobs as you are."

"And we've never given you a reason to split us up, have we?" Callen asked. He knew Granger constantly had to defend them, which made him pretty irritable on the topic. Even though NCIS had granted him and Nell an exception to the rules to allow them to continue working together, they still weren't supposed to be in the field together under any circumstances. Too bad he'd completely thrown that out the window on this case. Oh well, he'd never been a fan of rules, especially ones that interfered with his job. (Especially ones that kept him away from Nell.)

"I can't say you have," Granger admitted.

Nell worried far more than Callen about the regulations of NCIS; she couldn't help it. She'd been (and technically still was) the newest member of their team. If anyone had to go, it would be her. It didn't matter if Callen left with her – she'd forever feel guilty about costing him his career, one of the things he valued most in his life.

"Assistant Director, we worked together pretty well on this case." She could only hope it would put to rest the suggestions that the two of them in the field together would be catastrophic. "I think it should be a mark in our favor. We don't want this to be a regular thing, we just don't think we should be punished for how this case played out." She thought for a moment before qualifying, "Or for any future, unforeseeable incidents that may arise."

Granger considered her words. "I actually agree with you, and I'll make the argument. Believe it or not, I have better things to do than to fill out special reports on you two."

"At least we're professional," Nell said. "Five minutes ago notwithstanding."

"Professional for you two is slightly different than for everyone else." Sam paused. "Deeks and Kensi notwithstanding."

Deeks and Kensi immediately started arguing with each other about which of them was more unprofessional.

"Don't even get me started on you two," Granger told them. He was dreading the day he had to officially deal with them, too.

Nell was struck by what Sam had said, and wondered if she'd been blind to behavior that others viewed as strange. "Sam, what do you mean that we're different?"

He hastened to reassure her. "It's nothing bad. You're…close and everyone knows it. It's hard to explain, except to say you make each other better."

Hetty caught his words as she walked over. "I think we _all _make each other better, Mr. Hanna. What's this office gossip I hear about a divorce?"

"That was only five minutes ago." Deeks couldn't hide his amazement. "Man, people around here _talk_."

She narrowed her gaze on Callen and Nell. "Do you two realize the amount of work I've put into both of you? You're not to get divorced – I won't allow it!" She was a bit over-dramatic. She must have been taking lessons from Deeks.

"Don't worry, Hetty," Callen declared, "I've decided to keep her." Before Nell could reply to that (or otherwise hurt him) he placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her again.

"Do you people think I'm blind?" Granger didn't know why he bothered. Hetty offered to take him to lunch and he agreed, happy to leave before witnessing anything else he'd have to lie about.

Deeks watched as Callen and Nell broke apart. He considered it a part of his job to harass them at every opportunity. "Come on, guys, what have I told you? This is why we don't allow married couples to go undercover together. No one can stand their sickening displays of affection."

"I think they're sweet. Why aren't you that sweet?" Kensi asked, disapprovingly.

"Because she said 'yes' when Callen proposed to her. Maybe if you say yes one of these days, I'll be that sweet to you."

"Be sweet to me _first_ and I might say yes," Kensi argued.

"That seems kind of backwards to me –" Deeks couldn't continue because Nell launched herself at him, hugging him tightly. He could never pry her off when she did that. "Let go of me. Callen, a little help?"

He should know better; asking Callen for help generally ensured he'd never get it.

Nell eventually let go of him and said innocently, "I heard you talking about displays of affection. I figured you felt left out."

"You're insane, and you're like a foot shorter than me, I should be able to take you."

"You're not paying attention," Nell informed him, then lowered her voice. "Kensi practically told you she would marry you."

"Huh, she kind of did, didn't she?" He glanced at Kensi who was now talking to Sam. "You're very wise."

"I'm always here to point out the obvious to you. Anytime you need."

He kissed her forehead. "You are…a very good friend to me."

"You deserve to be happy," she said, simply. "Keep in mind, I still sometimes want to kill you."

He pushed her backwards for that, and she was about to yell at him when Callen caught her. She hadn't realized he'd been standing behind her. Did Deeks not get this was what led to the 'sometimes wanting to kill him' part? "You're a jerk."

"You think I could hurt you?" Deeks asked.

"I think I could hurt _you_," she countered.

Callen kissed her above her ear, and then lingered. "As if he wouldn't do anything you asked? Sometimes I wonder if he loves you more than I do."

"I don't think that's possible," Deeks said. From his experience, he didn't know anyone that could top the devotion Callen and Nell had for each other (often to the point of annoying him, directly). "But I could try."

"By all means, take her off my hands from time to time. Whenever she's driving me crazy."

"You think you're so funny. You won't think that later," Nell promised.

"Give him a break, Nell," Deeks said. "He just can't help himself."

"You're like no one else –" Callen would have kept going, but she cut him off with another kiss.

"Yeah, what do the rules matter at this point?" Deeks asked. "You may as well break as many as possible when there's no one around to care."

For once, Callen was on the same page as Deeks. "We'll start fresh tomorrow."

"We'll start now," Nell insisted, putting a few feet between herself and her husband. Both Callen and Deeks appeared skeptical. "We'll at least _try._"

Callen took a step toward her in blatant challenge.

Well, she'd never promised they'd succeed.

(Truthfully, she had way more fun when they failed.)

**XXXXXX**

Annnnd that's how I made a one chapter idea into a six chapter story! Anything that didn't make sense along the way should (hopefully) be cleared up by realizing they were married the whole time. I debated putting an established relationship tag on this, but I thought it'd be more fun to write it this way, where you think something is happening between them and then you get to the end and realize, "hey, it already did!"

I would love to know what you thought of the ending. I wanted it to be a romantic twist that also wasn't _too_ surprising. I tried very hard to not give it away, which was easier in the early chapters because they're supposed to act professionally at work. There are clues in every chapter, though, which get more obvious as the story goes along. I won't waste time listing them all here (message me if you want to know more), but my favorite is that the wedding ring Nell puts on in chapter 4 is her own.

I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you had as much fun reading it!


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